The Kid's Thread continued
by MoulinP
Summary: It has been a while since I've posted to this and I think my writing has changed a little (hopefully for the better), I decided to make this continuation a separate post. However, this follows on from Heyes' Thread and The Kid's Thread in that order
1. Talking About Heyes

Talking About Heyes

The Kid and Caroline kissed tenderly, comfortable in a post lovemaking glow, neither wanting to separate. After snuggling for some time, the Kid settled her cosily in his arms, her head on his chest. It was starting to get light and she had been there all night. With him. In his bed. The awkwardness and hesitancy of their earlier relationship was starting to fade. They were getting to know each other. It was nice. No matter what happened in the next few weeks and months, the Kid knew that he would always hold Caroline Curry, nee Fairfield, HIS wife, in great affection.

He was reluctant to move but necessity called. He carefully extracted himself from her embrace and got up, heading for the bathroom. Business taken care of, he returned with a glass of water. Caroline, propped up on an elbow, smiled at him.

"Hi, I wondered where you have gone," she said, gently. He hadn't bothered with his robe and she blushed at the sight of him.

"Not far. Jus' for this." He gestured with his glass. He took a sip before climbing back into bed and her arms.

"Jed, I'm wondering. These scars on your body… what are they?"

"What d'ya think they are?" he asked, quietly.

"They're bullet wounds aren't they?"

He sighed. "Yes."

"How did you get them?"

"Lots of ways."

"Can I know?"

"Yeah," he confirmed and frowned. For some reason, that he couldn't explain, despite what he'd said, he didn't want her to know HOW and WHY he had them.

When he didn't continue, her fingers brushed his chest and she leaned her body closer.

"Well?"

He couldn't resist the something in her blue eyes. They were a different blue to his, lighter, less intense but captivating all the same. He stroked her cheek.

"Reminders of my previous occupation."

"Working in a livery stable?" She looked innocent but she knew perfectly well he wasn't referring to that occupation. He smiled.

"No. The one afore that."

"Dangerous occupation to be in."

"Yeah, that's why I got out."

"I think that was a wise move." Her head dropped to his chest.

"I agree."

He'd thought she dropped it as they began to settle but no.

"Tell me about two of them. Just to give me a flavour."

He growled.

"I'll pick. The scar on your right calf." She looked up at him challengingly.

"Ya not gonna leave this alone are ya?"

"Only if you want ME to leave YOU alone," she said, coyly but her look was suggestive.

Unbidden, he gave a nervous chuckle. "I think ya learning far too fast."

"I have a good teacher," she said, smugly.

The Kid wondered what kind of woman he was entangling himself with and then realisation dawned that he wasn't minding one little bit. He wanted her to know about him, to understand him. Sighing, he sat up and uncovered his legs.

"Well that one." He indicated the scar along his right calf. "I picked up when we robbed the First National in Hanford." He grunted. "There was a posse waiting for us and we had to ride out fast. We only got away with $73. Not one of Heyes' better plans." He paused and rolled his eyes. "Although he'll tell ya the plan was good, it was the execution that was bad!"

"And that one?" Caroline pointed at the scar on his left thigh.

He growled and flipped the covers back over. Of all the scars on his body, why did she have to pick on that one?

"That was a little different," he said, quietly. He lay down and smoothed his hair back, and then put a hand behind his head.

Caroline looked at him and put her hand on his chest. "Why?"

The muscle in his cheek twitched and he licked his lips. He took a deep breath.

"'Cos Heyes shot me!" he said, finally.

"Heyes did!" She was surprised and shot up, unashamed when the sheet slipped down to expose her. The way he had talked about Heyes implied they were close. "Why? I thought you were cousins."

"We are," he qualified, and then looked at her in query. "How d'ya know that?"

"You told me the other night."

He grunted. Yes, he remembered and frowned slightly at how easily that closely guarded secret had slipped from him.

"Not a lot of folks know that. It was best that way. Safer. For both of us."

"Even more reason why I find it hard to believe that Heyes shot you."

The Kid grunted again and looked away.

"Not really," the Kid said, irritably. "Sometimes ya can get away with things with family that ya wouldn't with just friends." He sighed at the ceiling. She returned to his arms while she waited for him to continue. She knew he would when he dropped his arm around her shoulders. "We were having an argument and tempers were hot. I turned to walk outta the room to go do what I was gonna do … and he shot me!"

"That's a little extreme!"

"Yeah that's what I told him, when I'd got through cussin' him!" He looked away again.

"What was the argument about?"

The Kid shook his head. "Don't matter. He didn't … ACTUALLY mean to shoot me. I think he just meant to shoot close to me, pull me up and make me think about what I was gonna do some more."

Caroline caressed his chest. "Did you have a lot of arguments with Heyes?" she asked, slowly. She had never thought about his partner as a violent man. When the Kid had briefly spoken about him previously, he had come across more as a thinker.

"Nope. I was walking out the room 'cos he'd … ." He licked his lips. "Well … I'd left it too late is all."

"What do you mean? Left it too late."

The Kid licked his lips again. This was difficult. Something rarely spoken about. "Heyes has a temper, a black temper. He don't lose it too often but when he does, ya don't wanna be within a hundred miles of him. He's pretty scary and he can do things that are outta character for him. Part of the reason why he's got the reputation he's got. He's unpredictable when he gets like that. Not even I can hold him back. Ya can argue with Heyes, all nice and friendly like, if ya know what I mean … but that day I pushed him a little too far. He'd reached the point where … well he loses control and I was too slow."

"So he shot you!"

"Like I said he didn't mean to actually hurt me."

Caroline frowned. Why was he defending the man's actions when they couldn't be defended? There was more to the relationship than just family ties.

"He don't remember when his temper gets him so I guess we won't ever know."

"Do you mean he blacks out?"

"Not exactly. He just goes off to a different place and he don't remember going there. A meaner place, a harder place. He comes back real quick though." He paused and idly fingered the scar, added, "Keep me off my feet for a couple of weeks. Just long enough so I'd forget what it was I was gonna do." He snorted, humourlessly. "And of course he was right."

He gave Caroline a cosy squeeze and kissed the top of her head. "I'm glad all that's over."

"I'm glad too," she smiled up at him and then she became serious. "You don't mean because you don't see Heyes and his temper, do you?"

"No I don't mean that," he confirmed.

They enjoyed snuggling some more, and then the Kid spoke, a serious note in his voice. "I miss him, Caroline. He may be my cousin but he's more'n that. We're the only family we got an' I've hurt him, running off with you."

"All the more reason why you should write to him."

"I know that. 'Tain't easy. An' I don't have the words."

"If he means that much to you, then he won't care how it's written, just that it is written."

"Still not easy."

"I could help you."

"Nope. Gotta do it myself," he said, firmly.

"Tell me about him."

"What d'ya wanna know?"

"If he's your cousin is there a family resemblance?"

"No. My Pa and his Ma were brother and sister. Heyes favours HIS Pa, I look like MY Ma." He swallowed.

They were getting close to a subject he was reluctant to talk about but knew she would ask sooner or later. Perhaps sensing his unease, she decided she wouldn't right now.

"What does Heyes look like?" She rested her head on his chest. Then she looked up and smiled. "Don't worry. I won't turn you in."

He laughed gently. "Thank you. Hmmm, what does Heyes look like? Let's see." He stared at the ceiling. "He has dark brown hair and eyes. Sorta chocolate coloured y'know?" She nodded. "He has a smile that can light up a whole room. Some folks say he's handsome but I can't see it myself." He laughed gently and then became more thoughtful. "He can be real persuasive."

"Manipulative?"

"Yeah, I guess but it's more'n that. My Ma used to say he has a silver tongue." He paused and grunted. "And he also thinks he's a genius."

"Is he?"

The Kid pursed his lips. "Sometimes. School was easy for him. Picks things up real quick. Likes to read when he can – anything, stories, text books, catalogues, especially SAFE catalogues." When he saw her questioning look, added. "He likes to keep up with the latest developments. See how manufacturers are trying to make their safes Hannibal Heyes proof."

"And are they?"

The Kid shrugged. "Dunno. We're retired so the opportunity to find out isn't there no more."

Caroline smiled. "Of course."

"Perhaps all that readin' is why he talks better'n me. More precise. Can pass for real educated when he wants. Gets it from his pa. He was a learned man."

"Was he a school teacher?"

"Nope. A farmer jus' like my folks but my pa used to think he wasn't 'cos he kept asking for advice on things he shoulda known if'n he was really a farmer."

"What did your father think he was?"

"Don't know. He never said. An' I never asked him. Never asked Heyes either," he yawned. He closed his eyes and snuggled his head, close to hers. "Plum tuckered me out. All this talking 'bout Heyes."

She patted his chest. "Very well I won't ask any more now. The house will be awake soon. We ought to try and get some sleep."

"Good. Been wondering how long it would take to bore ya talking 'bout Heyes," he smiled.

Caroline prodded his ribs playfully and returned his smile. For a brief moment as they shared smiles something else passed between them, neither quite sure what it meant.

Caroline dropped her head to his chest and he snuggled her close. Both fell asleep content to be together.

ASJASJASJASJ

That evening after dinner, the Kid and Caroline moved from the dining room into the drawing room.

"It's a little chilly in here. Want a fire?" the Kid asked, crossing the room.

"Yes it is. I'll ring," Caroline said, heading for the bell pull.

"I'm here now. It's all made up. Just needs a match putting to it."

Caroline sat and took a deep breath. She watched as he crouched in front of the fire and teased it into flame.

"Jed, there are staff who will do that," she said, when he had finished and stood up.

He shrugged. "No need to put anyone out when it's easy enough to do. 'Sides I'm used to doing chores for myself." He sank onto the sofa opposite.

"Did you have to do chores as a child?"

"Oh yes," he laughed. "My Ma didn't let me get away with not doing my chores. 'Cept if I was ill a course."

Caroline hesitated. She had never asked about his family, other than Heyes. Although she gathered from their conversation earlier that morning that Heyes was the only family alive.

"When did your parents die?" she asked, before she could consider if that was a wise question to ask.

The Kid ran his thumbnail along the padded arm of the sofa as he thought about his answer.

"When I was a kid," he said, quietly. "Me and Heyes both lost our folks 'bout the same time. During the War."

"I'm sorry."

The Kid shrugged. "We lived in Kansas. That was the front line. Not all safe an' cosy like here in Boston."

Caroline licked her lips. Was that a dig? That she lived in a different world? It wasn't her fault.

The Kid must have come to the same conclusion because he frowned slightly. He carried on quickly.

"It was chaos out there for years. Lots of kids lost their folks. Either 'cos they got separated or died. Killed. Like ours were."

"Killed?"

"Yeah. Raiders. Over ran our farms. The whole territory. Murdering. Butchering. Raping. Destroying everything." He shook his head in despair. "Pointless."

For a long while, she didn't think he would say anymore. She could tell it was a painful subject and she wouldn't blame him for not wanting to talk about it. Yet she had inadvertently brought the subject to mind. He looked at her sadly, propped his head on his hand and began to speak, slowly, staring at a spot on the carpet as he replayed the terrible scenes in his mind.

"I lost my folks first. The raiders they came at night. Ma pushed me outta the back and I ran and hid in a small tree on the edge of our farmyard. I was barely ten years old and I had to listen as my folks died."

He paused and swallowed hard. "It's a sound I've never forgotten. Nothing I could do to help. Jus' sit in that tree and listen."

A long silent pause.

"I dunno how long I hid but it was light when I moved. Smoke still billowed from my home but there was nothing left. It was gone. There were … two bodies in the farmyard. I couldn't look too close but I knew they were my Ma and Pa."

He bounced his fist angrily on the arm of the chair, before taking a deep breath.

"I just ran. To the only place, I knew where I might feel safe. Over to the Heyes' farm. When I got there, I couldn't speak. The only thing I could do was cry and point. Uncle Matthew, Heyes' Pa, went to see, while Aunt Susan, Heyes' Ma took me inta their house. I remember Matthew coming back and how white faced he was. He spoke to Heyes' Ma. I didn't hear what he said but she started to cry."

He sighed. "After that, I lived with them, sharing Heyes' room, his clothes, which were too big … Heyes was twelve an' taller than me. But Aunt Susan took 'em up for me. I sure was a short, runty kid in those days."

He paused. "I didn't talk at all for weeks. His folks tried to get me to speak but Heyes didn't. He kept by me. Stayed with me. He seemed to know what I wanted, what I needed. Words didn't seem to matter. Heyes and me did everything together and gradually I started to speak again. Jus' a few words. Please. Thank you. Stuff like that. Real conversationalist. Guess I've never really got back into the habit of talking. Heyes did our talking an' boy can he talk!"

He tailed off, chewing his thumbnail and staring into the fire.

"I called him Han then. Short for Hannibal. Everyone did, 'cept his ma and pa. His ma always called him Hannibal." He chuckled. "Mainly 'cos he was always in trouble. Hannibal Joshua you come here right this minute!" He smiled at the memory and paused. "It was his pa who called him Heyes."

"Why? That's his last name."

"Yeah," the Kid nodded, in agreement. "Heyes told me once that his pa had a lot of brothers and HIS pa called all of 'em Heyes so as he didn't have to remember all the names. I guess uncle Matthew followed along with the family tradition. Dunno if'n that's true".

His face clouded over and he propped his head on a fist again. With a sigh he continued.

"It was barely three months but I was settling. Coming to terms with losing my folks, I guess. Then the raiders came again. This time Heyes' folks weren't so lucky. Uncle Matt ordered Heyes an' me outta the house jus' in time. We didn't see what happened but we heard. We made it up inta the hills. We both knew … ." He tailed off again.

Caroline wasn't sure but she thought his eyes were watering. She wanted to know more. What happened next? What did the two young boys do then? However, she was wise enough not to ask. Either the subject was closed or he would continue when he was ready. She wasn't going to force him.

In a while, he dropped his arms in his lap and sighed.

"I don't wanna talk 'bout this no more, Caroline," he said, quietly.

"I understand. I'm sorry it's painful for you. I wish I hadn't asked."

He looked across at her and smiled weakly. "Don't be sorry. Ya've a right to know 'bout me. Ya've taken so much on trust already."

"I'm not regretting it Jed."

His smile deepened. "Neither am I."

"Someday, will you tell me a little more? How you became an outlaw?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "Someday."


	2. The Police

The Police

By the end of the first week, Boston was soon abuzz with the news that Miss Caroline Fairfield, the beautiful and wealthy heiress, had unexpectedly met and married a man rumoured to be the notorious outlaw, Jedidiah "Kid" Curry. Unexpected visitors arrived anxious to meet and congratulate them; all were welcome. They had so many invitations to lunch and dinner, it was impossible to accept them all. Caroline, in particular, certain that her uncle would soon hear, wanted the news of their marriage circulated as widely and as quickly as possible.

The Kid took himself off to practice with his gun as often as he could. He knew he had to keep at it. At some point, he would be returning, if not to Porterville, but certainly to the West. He would need his skill for the future. He couldn't let it slip. That would be downright dangerous.

For now, he was aware he was a curiosity figure. Their relationship was indeed the stuff of romantic novels. Some of Caroline's friends were how he imagined, stuffy and straitlaced. Many were not and he found he liked them and they him. He was the first to admit that often the topic of conversation at dinner went beyond him. He tried not to let Caroline down by his ignorance of some matters and followed her lead. That came easily, having perfected that art with Heyes. Somewhat to his surprise, he found he was enjoying himself. This was like a vacation except busy. Later, when he and Caroline were alone, he would ask her what something meant and he would remember. He was learning new things and he found he enjoyed wanting to know more.

The relationship between Caroline and him remained a puzzle even to them. In public, they appeared to be a happy newlywed couple, perfectly at ease with one another. Friends would glance knowingly at each other when they caught them being tactile. This was something that seemed to come naturally to them, even to Caroline, who was brought up not to show her emotions in public. Somehow, with the Kid that proved virtually impossible. In private they shared a bed, either his or hers. Some nights they just snuggled, other nights they were more intimate. That intimacy grew after the Kid had told her more about his life.

Separately they wondered where this was going. After all their relationship had already gone further than the original deal. Caroline had been very clear from the beginning what the deal was. Yet here they were married in every sense of the word.

A rare evening at home brought then unannounced but expected visitors. They had retired to the drawing room after dinner and were cosily chatting about their day, when Johnson knocked.

"Come in," they called together and smiled at each other. The Kid was learning the ways of the house and feeling more comfortable in his new setting.

"Excuse me madam, sir. Two gentlemen have asked to see you." Johnson paused. "From the police department."

The Kid and Caroline looked at each other. They shared the same thought. Here it comes.

"Are you ready?" Caroline asked.

"Yes ma'am." The Kid reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out an envelope.

"Very well. Johnson, ask them to come in please."

"Very good madam."

Caroline was on her feet, hands clasped in front of her, when the two police officer entered the room. Neither were in uniform but both carried their badges on the lapel of their jackets.

"Good evening, gentlemen."

"Miss Fairfield, thank you for seeing us at this hour. I know its late. I'm Captain Bennett and this is Sergeant Hollins."

Caroline nodded. "It is Mrs Curry, Captain."

"Yes quite." Captain Bennett flashed a weak smile and eyed the Kid nervously. "I expect you know why we're here …"

"You would like to know if my husband is REALLY the outlaw, Kid Curry."

"Yes ma'am."

"Jed?" Caroline looked round at the Kid, who stood up.

The Kid grinned and spread his hands. "Yeah, some call me Kid Curry but before ya get too excited …" He glared at the sergeant who had moved in his direction. "Ya had better take a look at this." He handed the envelope to the captain.

"What's this?" Bennett took it regarding the envelope with suspicion.

"My amnesty paper."

"Amnesty!" the sergeant exclaimed, and then pressed his lips together tightly, knowing he shouldn't have spoken.

Bennett licked his lips and took out the contents of the envelope. He took a deep breath as he read.

"This should be big news! Why haven't I heard about this?" he asked in surprise.

The Kid shrugged. "Well now I guess I'm not the right person to be asking that kinda question. The Governor of Wyoming wanted to keep it low key until the end of last year. News has been leaking out slowly since then," the Kid explained. "Guess it hasn't quite made it to Boston yet."

Bennett looked doubtful. The Kid shrugged again.

"By all means check. Ya'll find that's genuine. I ain't wanted for anything these days. The slate is wiped clean."

"Oh I will, Mr Curry. Until then I'm gonna have to arrest you. Sergeant." Bennett motioned to his sergeant.

"You most certainly will NOT!" Caroline cried. "That will not be necessary!" Sergeant Hollis stopped and looked unsure between Caroline and his boss.

"Ma'am …"

"Jed is living in Boston quite openly. If you have read the recent newspapers, you would know that. There is no attempt to deceive."

"Ma'am. I have to check that this is genuine."

"And I can assure you that it is, Captain." She drew herself up. "Do you really think that I, daughter of Charles Fairfield, a most adherent supporter of the Boston Police department, would marry a known criminal without first satisfying myself that my husband to be was exonerated?" Caroline was quite indignant and at her most haughty. When there was no answer, she continued. "No of course not. Judge Albertson, a highly respected legislator, confirmed the veracity of Mr Curry's amnesty. I am quite satisfied."

The Kid pursed his lips to hide his smile.

"Yes ma'am but I …"

"Mr Curry will stay HERE!" Caroline's tone brooked no arguments. "I will personally vouch for Mr Curry's whereabouts until any checks that you wish to make have concluded to your satisfaction."

Bennett looked from one to the other, undecided. If there were still a warrant out for Curry's capture, then this would be the biggest arrest of his career. Could he take the risk that the Curry would run? On the other hand, if the amnesty was genuine and he arrested him, here at the home of Miss Fairfield, the department would come under intense criticism for not checking with Cheyenne first. A fundamental principle of police procedure. One he had failed to observe, so intent was he on arresting Kid Curry. But then again he hadn't know when he set out that he should have checked with Cheyenne. He licked his lips. It appeared he was caught between a rock and hard place.

"Why are you here in Boston, Mr Curry?" Bennett asked, quietly.

"Because Boston is where my wife lives, Captain," the Kid said, patiently. He stepped closer to Caroline. "We're newly-weds and newly-weds live together."

"Surely you don't expect us to live APART?" Caroline added, looking horrified at the suggestion.

Bennett licked his lips and sighed. "No ma'am, of course not," he swallowed. "I'll need …"

"No Captain." The Kid plucked the amnesty from Bennett's grasp before he could react. "I'm not letting that outta my sight. You can note down any details ya need in order to check." He widened his eyes at the captain, expecting agreement.

Bennett pulled his shoulders back. He had decided. Taking Curry in and checking was the better option than having the bird fly the nest. The repercussions if that happened should the amnesty prove to be false didn't bear thinking about.

"Mr Curry I will have to take you in," he said, apologetically and nodded to Hollis.

Caroline stepped in front of the Kid. "I will NOT allow it."

"Er Caroline … ," the Kid began. She looked round at him. "I think it would be better if I went along willingly," he said, slowly, looking at the police officers cautiously. "You know and I know that once the amnesty checks out, which it will, they can't hold me and I'll be back before ya know it with it all straightened out."

For a moment, Caroline looked at him as if he was mad. When he nodded forcibly, she sighed.

"Very well Captain, my husband will come with you willingly so there will be no need for handcuffs," she said, eyeing Sergeant Hollis and the pair in his hand. "I trust that will be satisfactory?"

Bennett nodded, reluctantly. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. I will come as well."

"Oh no ma'am, there's really no need," Bennett protested.

"I think there is, Captain, so I will insist. However, currently I am not appropriately dressed to accompany you to your police station. You will do me the curtesy of waiting until I have changed." She was dressed for formal dining. Caroline was a woman who was determined to be correct at all times. A woman of her status would not go to a place as mundane as a police station in what she was wearing, unless she had no choice. In this situation, Caroline considered that she HAD a choice.

"Ma'am … ."

"I WILL accompany you," Caroline said, firmly and swept from the room.

The Kid rolled his eyes and gestured to the Bennett.

"Suggest ya take a seat, Captain, we could be sometime," the Kid said and made himself comfortable on the sofa. "You too Sergeant."

When both police officers were perched uncomfortably on the edge of two chairs, the Kid smiled.

"Would you like a drink while we wait?" he asked, pleasantly.

Captain Bennett would like nothing better but shook his head. "No thank you, I'm on duty." The Kid looked at the Sergeant for an answer. "So are you, Hollis," he growled, and the Sergeant shook his head, regretfully.

Uncomfortable silence descended.

"Your wife is a formidable woman, Mr Curry," Bennett said, finally.

The Kid chuckled and bit his bottom lip as he replayed the earlier conversation in his head. He felt a burst of pride well up. "Yes she is," he agreed thoughtfully with a nod.

"May I ask how long you have been married?"

"Just a few weeks. A very eventful few weeks," he qualified.

The wait went on for so long, in uncomfortable silence that the Kid began to wonder if Caroline was stalling deliberately. Then at last, Caroline reappeared. She was now dressed in grey, a plain wool skirt and matching jacket and looked altogether more business-like. The three men rose to their feet.

"I have taken the opportunity of ordering my carriage, Captain," she said, as she entered, pulling on her gloves. "I have no desire to ride in your Black Maria."

"No ma'am that wouldn't have been the case. You are not under arrest."

"And neither is my husband. He is merely accompanying you to the police station, where you will verify the truth of his amnesty. WE will ride in the carriage. YOU, Captain may ride with us." Then seeing Bennett was about to protest. "Your sergeant …. Hollis my come as well. I doubt if my husband could overpower the both of you in such a confined space. I, of course, would neither help nor hinder. You have nothing to fear, I assure you."

Caroline gave Bennett a look that dared him to argue. He decided to give in gracefully and nodded his acceptance.

ASJASJASJASJ

Once at the police station, Bennett showed Caroline and the Kid into the Commissioner of Police's own office. Bennett decided during the ride in that was the only place suitable for them to wait. The police station had its own telegraph office and an immediate wire winged its way off to Cheyenne. No one expected an instant response but as time went on, patience became stretched.

"What on earth is the hold up, Captain?" Caroline snapped.

"I'm sure I don't know, Mrs Curry."

"Then GO and find out."

"Yes ma'am." Bennett all but ran from the room.

The Kid, who had been pacing up and down, turned and grinned.

"Caroline, you are magnificent!" he laughed.

Caroline looked embarrassed and plucked at an imaginary piece of lint from her jacket lapel.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean." She sighed. "Jed, you have done nothing wrong and they had no reason to arrest you."

"They haven't arrested me. I came voluntarily remember?"

He looked at Caroline in concern. "Are ya alright?"

"Yes of course." She paused. "This is not a situation that I am used to. I'm finding this a little wearing on the nerves." She looked worried.

The Kid sat down and put his arm round her shoulders.

"Hey, you know the amnesty is genuine. They'll find out it is too in good time. I'm not surprised there hasn't been a reply from Cheyenne yet."

Caroline looked up and frowned. "You're not? Why not? Given the time difference, they shouldn't be ASLEEP there!"

"Because although Cheyenne is the capital of Wyoming, it's not Boston. Things don't run the same way as they do here. There isn't the same set up."

"I suppose so," she agreed begrudgingly. "I keep forgetting that I found you in the middle of nowhere." She smiled up at him and he kissed her forehead. "I hope this won't take much longer. It is very late."

"So?" the Kid, shrugged. "Jus' means we get to sleep in come morning." He gave her a nudge and smiled at her. "We are newlyweds after all."

Caroline tried to keep a straight face but a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth until a short laugh burst out.

Sometime later, Bennett returned with another man. He was middle-aged, balding with a thick moustache and wearing glasses. Under his arm, he carried a large ledger. In his other hand, he carried a small reticule.

"Still no reply from Cheyenne, I'm afraid," apologised Bennett. "However, in order not to keep you much longer, there is an alternative solution. This is Mr Schultz he's our forgery expert. He'd like to take a look at the amnesty, Mr Curry to ascertain if it is genuine. If Mr Schultz can confirm that it is, then I'm prepared to let you go. When the reply eventually comes through from Cheyenne, should that say otherwise, then … ." He paused and took a deep breath. "I know where you live," he added, more quietly, hoping he would never have cause to confront Mrs Curry again.

Bennett saw the Kid's mouth open. "Oh, Mr Schultz will examine the amnesty right here. At the desk. In front of you."

The Kid nodded and got up. "Mr Schultz," he said, in greeting and held out his hand.

Schultz looked for confirmation at Bennett, who nodded that he should shake hands. Schultz took a deep breath before doing so and gave a superficial handshake. The Kid decided to let that go and reached into the pocket of his jacket for the amnesty.

"How will ya know if this is genuine, Mr Schultz?" he asked, slapping the envelope against his other hand.

"Er well there are many ways. The first thing I will do is confirm the signature. I have a sample of Governor Hoyt's signature in here," Schultz said, nervously. He motioned with the ledger. He knew who this man was and he knew his reputation. Knowing that didn't put him at ease. He held onto the ledger under his arm for dear life.

The Kid looked pensive and nodded. "Okay. Here ya are then." He held out the envelope containing the precious amnesty.

Schultz took it and scuttled off behind the large desk, where he carefully unpacked and laid out equipment from his reticule. All eyes watched as Schultz opened the ledger, nodding when he found the appropriate page, before taking the amnesty from its envelope. The three watchers swopped glances as Schultz de-cased a jeweller's loupe, polished the lens and inserted it into his right eye. Several long minutes of grunts, sniffs and hmmms followed.

"Will this take LONG Mr Schultz?" Caroline asked, finally.

Mr Schultz removed the loupe from his eye and looked up.

"The forging of official documents is sophisticated, Mrs Curry. I have to be thorough and I'm sure you would want me to be. It will take … ." Schultz reinserted the loupe. "As long as it takes." He applied himself to the document once more.

The Kid and Bennett rolled eyes at one another. Caroline drew herself up to take Schultz to task and only stopped when the Kid laid a hand on her arm. She gave him a frosty look. He smiled and patted her arm reassuringly until she nodded.

"Can I get any tea or coffee?" Bennett asked, expectantly. Please say yes so I can go, went his thoughts.

Caroline looked up at him imperiously. "I doubt if your police budget will cover Rose Congou. A glass of water will suffice, Captain Bennett. Thank you."

Bennett nodded and looked at the Kid.

"Er coffee, Captain. Black. Thank you."

"Mr Schultz?"

"I never take stimulants when I'm working Captain Bennett."

Bennett went off, leaving the three in silence.

"Mind if I watch, Mr Schultz?" the Kid said, brightly and went to pull out the chair on the other side of the desk. He thought better of it when Schultz looked up with a forbidding gaze.

"There is nothing to see, Mr Curry. Please take a seat over there." He waved the Kid away.

The Kid retreated to the sofa where Caroline sat, straight backed. He sat beside her and gave her hand a squeeze. He looked round at the room.

"Have to say this is a far cry from the jails I'm used to," he said, then winced. Perhaps he shouldn't have said that! "What I mean is … ."

"Jed," Caroline warned, and he nodded in acceptance.

Schultz was right. It took as long as it took. Beverages came and were consumed, a bathroom break was taken, watches consulted, whistling halted in mid whistle, toes tapped and silenced by three male sharp looks, fidgeting commenced and stopped by a female look,.

Finally, to everyone's relief, Schultz sat back in his chair. He removed the loupe from his eye.

"Captain Bennett, I have taken a few unobtrusive scrapings of the ink to submit for scientific analysis for corroboration. However, I cannot find anything inherently wrong with this document. Therefore, on the face of it, I believe this to be the genuine article."

Caroline's relief was audible.

"I will of course write a full report detailing my examination and findings."

"Naturally, Mr Schultz but for Mr and Mrs Curry's benefit, perhaps a short verbal summary?"

"Very well." Schultz licked his lips. "In my opinion, the signature is authentic. A person's signature is usually roughly the same length if written by the same hand. I have measured the specimen signature and I am satisfied that is the case. The document itself is in the correct format. I can't see any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. There is no inconsistency in the formatting of the font. The quality and thickness of the paper is in keeping with what one might expect for a document of this nature. The embossed Wyoming seal is the permitted size, colour and design and the correct stamp is applied over Governor Hoyt's signature." He widened his hands. "I can see no obvious evidence of forgery, Captain Bennett."

Captain Bennett nodded and turned to the Currys. As he did so, there was a knock on the door and a policeman came in.

"Begging your pardon, Captain, the reply from Cheyenne sir." He held out a telegram.

"Thank you."

The policeman nodded and closed the door, not without giving the Kid a long look. Here was something to tell his grandchildren, Kid Curry no less.

Bennett read the reply, nodded and smiled. "Cheyenne confirmed that Governor Hoyt granted Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes amnesty effective June 23rd, 1882." He looked up, pursing his lips. "Congratulations, Mr Curry you are free to go. My apologies for taking up your time."

ASJASJASJASJ

The Kid was in bed and had been for ten minutes. He was trying to get off to sleep but hadn't succeeded when he heard the connecting door open and Caroline's soft footfall approached his bed.

"Are you awake, Mr Jones?" she whispered.

"No," he smiled, and pushed back the covers to admit her.

She slid in and into his arms. Her head rested on his shoulder, one arm over him.

"Why did ya insist on coming to the police station?"

"If I hadn't accompanied you, Captain Bennett would have put you in a cell with drunks, murderers and who knows how many other violent and unsavoury persons. I couldn't bear the thought of you in there alone."

The Kid kissed her head. "Thanks." He snuggled her and they settled contentedly. "Beneath that hard exterior is a soft and vulnerable woman isn't there?" he said, quietly.

Caroline lifted her head. "Please don't tell anyone, Mr Jones," she whispered.

The Kid snuggled her again. "I won't. It'll be our secret." Then he smiled. "I'm good at keeping secrets."

"Thank you."

ASJASJASJASJ

Several days later, the Kid was reading the newspaper alone in the study. Caroline had gone to run some errands in Boston. Female errands she had informed him. Okay he'd got it. His presence wasn't wanted. She assured him she would only be a few hours. Surely, he could find something to occupy himself. Perhaps write a letter to Heyes, she suggested? He'd grunted doubtfully. That wasn't going too well. In fact, it wasn't going at all. Although, when Caroline asked he could quite honestly say he'd started. Then the newspaper arrived to distract him.

A knock on the door, made him look up.

"Yeah?"

Johnson came in.

"Are you accepting callers sir? Captain Bennett from the police department is here to see you sir."

The Kid frowned. He thought they had settled the validity of his amnesty.

"Captain Bennett? Yeah, I'd best see him," he sighed, folding the newspaper and putting it to one side. "Thanks. Johnson." Dealing with the staff wasn't quite natural for him yet and he was still hesitant.

The Kid stood as Johnson showed Captain Bennett in.

"Captain. What can I do for you?"

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr Curry."

They shook hands and the Kid nodded to a chair.

"Thank you but I won't keep you. I only came to give you this." From his pocket, Bennett took a folded paper and held it out. "I thought you might like it."

With a frown, the Kid unfolded it and blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected Bennett to hand him a copy of his wanted poster. He could tell by the holes where the tacks had secured it to a wall that this must be the Boston police department's copy no less.

"The scientific analysis of the ink scrapings Mr Schultz took has confirmed beyond all doubt that the amnesty is genuine."

The Kid looked surprised. "You mean even with confirmation from Cheyenne ya still doubted?"

Bennett winced. "Mr Schultz had already taken the samples, Mr Curry. He's a very thorough man. He wished to conclude his investigation."

The Kid nodded. "Yeah I got that impression," he agreed, dryly.

"I also wanted to let you know that as far as the Boston police department is concerned, you are free to go about your business, Mr Curry. I can assure that there will be no watch put on you, intimidation or harassment from any of our officers."

"Thank you Captain, that's good to hear. Why this?" He waved the poster.

"A token, Mr Curry. A symbolic removal from our purview. Nothing more."

The Kid nodded in understanding. "I appreciate that, Captain. I can assure you that ya won't have any need to call on me in your official capacity again. I'm not this man anymore." He looked at the Captain. "An' I never will be again."

Bennett smiled and offered his hand. "Goodbye Mr Curry. I hope you enjoy living in Boston."

The Kid shook and nodded. "Goodbye Captain. I'm sure gonna try."

Bennett paused at the door. "Oh by the way, the same goes for Mr Heyes, should he ever come to Boston."

"Yeah well I'm not expecting him any time soon," the Kid dismissed casually, irritated that Bennett had reminded him of his letter-writing task.

And I won't if I don't get this letter writ, he thought as the door closed on the Captain. He looked at the almost blank piece of paper and groaned. Too difficult. Finish reading the paper first.

He hadn't finished reading when Caroline arrived home. A kiss in greeting was welcome by both.

"How are you getting on?" she asked, eagerly, seeing writing paper on the desk.

"I started," the Kid grinned, and showed her what he'd written – the date.

"Informative," she commented.

"Yeah, well I had a visitor."

Caroline frowned and took a seat. "Oh? Who was that?"

"Bennett. From the Police department. Came to tell me I'm in the clear and to bring me this." He handed her the poster.

She studied it. "I hadn't seen this before," she said, quietly. Her forefinger traced the letters of his name. "It was really you."

"Yeah, it was really me. Not any more though. He's done." He held out his hand.

"What are you going to do with this now?" Caroline asked, still holding onto the poster.

The Kid tapped the desk thoughtfully. "Thought I might get it framed. Hang it up there on the wall." He pointed at the wall in front of the desk. "If'n ya don't mind that is? Sorta reminder. That I'm not that man anymore."

Caroline smiled and handed it back. "No I don't mind." She leant forward. "I don't think you are either," she added in confirmation as she handed the poster back.

Uncomfortable silence ensued.

"I believe lunch may be ready."

"Now ya talking!"


	3. Getting to Know More

Getting to Know More

Caroline walked into the drawing room the next day and found the Kid reading.

"Reading?" she asked, stating the obvious.

"Yeah. Trying to finish this dang book of Heyes'," he growled.

Caroline took a seat opposite and smiled. "You've nearly finished."

"Not finished near enough."

"If you don't like it why are you reading it?" she laughed.

He looked up thoughtfully. "Dunno really. I picked it up to pass the time while I waited for you that night. Guess I kinda want to finish it … 'cos it belongs to Heyes." As he was speaking, he closed the book. "Maybe send it back with a letter."

Caroline noticed the fond way he ran a hand over the cover.

"Is this the first time you've been away from each other? For any length of time I mean."

"No ma'am. We spent some years apart afore."

"Was that because … ."

"No ma'am. Neither of us have been in prison," he interrupted, quickly. "If that's what ya're thinking."

Caroline bit her lip. It hadn't been but now that he mentioned it. Good to know.

"Then what happened? Did you fall out?"

"Not exactly." He hesitated. "We had a difference of opinion 'bout where we should go after Valparaiso."

"Valparaiso?"

"Yeah. It's a School for Waywards. We kinda got shipped off there after … well after we lost our folks."

"I see." She paused. "Go on," she urged.

He pulled a face and shook his head. "Don't wanna talk 'bout Valparaiso." He glanced across at her. "But I'll tell ya what happened after. Kinda set me on the wrong road so ya might as well know. An' ya did ask me an' I did tell ya I would."

She nodded.

He licked his lips as he chose his words. "Heyes wanted to go find this uncle of his … well mine too I guess. Our folk's older brother. I didn't know him but Heyes did."

"Why was that?"

"Dunno exactly. Something happened afore I was born. There was a falling out between him and my Pa an' Grandpa Curry so he never came to see us. Saw Heyes' Ma though. So that's why Heyes knew him but I didn't."

Caroline nodded. "Family politics."

"Yeah," he agreed and frowned. Haltingly, he began to talk. "I needed to go back. To where we'd lived. Not … not to the farms." He swallowed. "Jus' to the town. Where we'd gone to school. Had friends. See if Grandpa Curry was still … around." He took a deep breath. "He'd lived with my folks an' me but a bit before … IT happened, he'd had an accident on the farm. Smashed up his leg an' he'd … well he lost it. Couldn't do much round the farm no more so he was living in town." He nodded and pursed his lips. "I wanted to see 'bout him but Heyes didn't."

"Why? He was his grandfather as well."

"Well here's the thing. Heyes' Pa was an Englishman. Grandpa Curry was from Ulster. Ain't too friendly with the English in that part of Ireland. Made things awkward between them."

He sighed.

"Aunt Susan tried her best an' Grandpa Curry was polite, civilised but not sociable if ya know what I mean. Don't recall him ever going over to the Heyes farm. So Heyes didn't know him like I did."

He paused and Caroline could tell he was thinking back.

"So what happened?"

"Huh? Oh, me an' Heyes went our separate ways. He went to Utah. I went back to Kirby … worse mistake I ever made … ." He tailed off, far away.

Suddenly Caroline was there beside him, hand on his arm. "Jed, we can change the subject."

The Kid hadn't realised that she'd moved and he looked startled to see her. He shook his head. "The town had been fired during the raids but most of the folks had escaped and were able to rebuild. I found Grandpa Curry. He was surprised to see me. Thought me an' Heyes had died with his folks so he welcomed me into his house. Even when he lived with my folks an' me he never called me Jed. Always the kid. Carried on doing that. Name kinda stuck 'till everyone called me that. So that's how I became THE KID. Lived with Grandpa Curry until he died. It was then that the trouble started."

"What do you mean?"

The Kid twitched his mouth back and forth, embarrassed to say.

"I guess I was 'bout seventeen. All alone in the world again. Grandpa Curry had this old gun. An 1851 Colt Navy Revolver .36 calibre, six shot, round lead ball, accurate an' light," he said, proud of his knowledge. "He'd taught me to use it. I got real good with it. Practised most days. An' you can carry it around in a holster. So after he passed, I did." He pursed his lips. "Guess I felt alone an' …. vulnerable. Again."

Caroline rubbed his arm sympathetically. She didn't object when he raised it for her to slip underneath.

"'Afore I knew it, I was selling out my skills. Made me some money. Bought me a newer gun. Word gotta round. Always stopped short of hiring out for anything illegal though." He shook his head. "I wanted no part of anything like that." He sighed. "Yet folks kept testing me. Minding my own business but there they'd be. Goading me. Taunting me. Pushing me. They jus' wanted to see how fast I'd become. Well ya know what guns and alcohol does to a fella."

He looked down at her.

"Naw, I guess ya don't. Got so I couldn't hardly move about. So I packed my bags and left. Been travelling for a while and I thought I was far enough away so I stopped for a drink. Not far enough 'cos someone recognised me. I remember it like it were yesterday. Hey, you're that kid over at Kirby who reckons he's gotta fast draw. Who me? I says. Yeah, you. Naw, I says, ya must be mistaken. No I ain't, he says. I don't take kindly to ya calling me a liar. I ain't, I says. Well I says ya are, he says. Fella next to me at the bar, who I'd never seen before, says to me, don't do it, Kid. He's pretty fast. An' I looked at him and pushed away from the bar. Who was he to tell me what to do? Yeah well so am I, says me."

He grunted humourlessly.

"All the bravado of youth. I had a pretty big chip on my shoulder by then. I guess I thought I was invincible."

He paused. "So we got to it. Yeah, he was fast. But I was faster. Hit him in the shoulder. An' he went down. All his pals started yellin' an' coming at me. The fella from the bar, he grabbed me and got me outta there. We jumped on our horses and hightailed it. Near enough the whole town followed us. Thought we'd be caught for sure. An' lynched more'n likely. This fella seemed to know where he was doing, so I followed him."

"Who was he?"

The Kid smiled. "Came to be a real good friend. Still is. Name's Lom Trevors. He's the sheriff in Porterville these days."

"The town where we met?"

The Kid nodded. "Yep. Is now. At that time, he was still an outlaw. He was trying to quit but he could see we were in big trouble. We needed a safe place. So he took me to the one place he knew was guaranteed to be safe." He paused. "Devil's Hole."

Caroline recognised the name. "Oh, that really is where all the trouble starts."

"Yeah, ya could say," he agreed. "An' I met someone there who made it real hard for me to leave." He bit his bottom lip and looked at her. "Heyes."

Caroline sat up, in surprise. "Heyes was already there? You found him by coincidence?"

"Yep," the Kid grinned. Then laughed. "Who'd a believe it huh?"

"How did Heyes get there?"

"Ah, well now that's a whole different story. Only one a day now Caroline. Don't wanna spoil ya."

They looked at each other and laughed cosily together. A moment later they were sharing a kiss, neither sure who had initiated it. The Kid stroked her cheek as Caroline looked up at him. She didn't give him any encouragement but neither did she try to stop him when he kissed her again. Her hand slipped round his neck, as his kiss deepened.

"This wasn't part of the deal, Mr Jones," she whispered, breathlessly as they eased apart.

"No," he agreed, quietly, not wanting to say anymore.

Caroline slowly got up. The Kid let her, watching her. She hesitated. He swallowed, pleased but not surprised when she held her hand out to him.

ASJASJASJASJ

Caroline looked fondly at her husband across the breakfast table. Today was their first anniversary. Of the day, they had first met. She smiled to herself. A lot had happened since that day two weeks ago. They were married, in every sense of the word, had travelled across most of the country, set Boston society abuzz and settled nicely into life at Fairfield Place. It was like a dream and she felt giddy at the speed of it all. If it was surprising her, she wondered how he was feeling.

"How are you today, Jed?" she asked, using her table napkin.

"Huh?" the Kid looked up, fifth piece of toast, lavishly buttered and marmalade coated, poised in mid-air.

"I was enquiring how you were feeling."

"Fine ma'am." He frowned slightly. Why was she asking? "Thanks for asking." Then he paused. "How are you?"

She smiled broadly. "Very well, thank you."

He nodded.

"You were telling me yesterday that you had met Heyes again."

He nodded mouth full of toast.

"I'd like to hear what happened next."

He nodded, swallowing.

"Like to finish breakfast first," he said when he could.

Caroline smiled. "Yes of course." She sat forward. "I'm bursting to know what happened," she said with a small laugh. She put her fingers to her lips. That was quite out of character for her, she knew.

He smiled at her. For all her insistence on formality at times, suddenly that could slip in a way he was finding he liked.

"Well don't burst 'till I've finished breakfast." He glanced at the remaining slice in the toast rack, licked his lips but decided against it.

Caroline had noticed where his eyes had fallen and smiled. Her new husband had a prodigious appetite it seemed. She had already asked her cook to make sure his helpings were larger than was customary.

The Kid downed the rest of his coffee, returned the cup to its saucer decisively and pushed it aside. He folded his arms and leant on the table.

"Okay, next instalment of the Curry Chronicles coming up."

Caroline smiled and leant her chin on a hand, in expectation. Never mind that her elbow was on the table. She was prepared to overlook good manners to hear what happened next.

"I'd gotton to know Lom Trevors pretty well as we rode up to Devil's Hole. He'd told me 'bout his past and that he was trying to put it all behind him. Yet somehow it kept on coming back to haunt him. He couldn't seem to break free. An' there he was riding back into Devil's Hole with me. I think he was concerned that he was starting me on the same path as him."

"So Devil's Hole was an outlaw hideout even then?"

"Yeah, it's the sorta country that's always attracted the rougher element. When we got there, it was run by Big Jim Santana, half Mexican, half Irish fella. The Devil's Hole was already getting a name for itself. Jim was a good leader, ran a tight ship. Loyalty, discipline, rule of law. He installed all that in his gang members and they respected him for it." He smiled. "'Cept there was one young fella who questioned him a lot. Not in a challenging sorta way. Jus' in a learning sorta way. Jim seemed to let him get away with it. Only some of the fellas didn't like it that this young smart mouthed kid was getting all their leader's attention."

"Heyes?"

"Who else?" the Kid grinned. "He hadn't been there that long himself. He'd been riding with another gang 'till that gang lucked out. But he'd met the Devil's Hole Gang previous so after the Plummer gang broke up; Heyes went to see Big Jim. Heyes came with recommendations so he was taken in. Turned out those recommendations were proved correct. Jim liked the way Heyes thought and was sorta grooming him. I guess it was that the other fellas didn't like. 'Specially Wheat."

"Who's Wheat?"

The Kid sighed. "One of the gang. Was with Jim from the beginning. Thought of his self as Jim's deputy. Trouble is he's a follower, not a leader. Oh, he thinks he is but he don't have the brains. Finally got his chance after Heyes and me left but the gang's strictly small time now."

The Kid absently drew a circle on the tablecloth with his finger. Caroline waited.

"You were telling me about Heyes," she prompted.

He looked up at her. "Yeah. Heyes. Came as a real shook to both of us to meet up again after all those years in a place like that. Heyes was fully into gang life. He was a crook and he was proud of it. I knew Lom wanted to leave again and I wanted to go with him. I tried to persuade Heyes to come with us." He shook his head. "He wouldn't. Left me in a real bind. I'd just found my cousin again. The only family I had in the world and he was a crook."

He smacked his lips. "But I also wanted to go with Lom." He grunted. "I know he and Heyes had a long talk one night. Dunno what they talked 'bout but the next morning Lom was gone. That option kinda got taken 'way from me."

The Kid pursed his lips. "So I stayed. I wanted no part in their robberies so I found myself useful looking after the horses an' gear an' that."

He sighed. "One time they all rode out. Never did tell me what the plan was. Jim was adamant that I wasn't to know. I don't think he completely trust me. Thought I might light out after they'd gone and tell the authorities. Or something like that."

"Would you?"

The Kid considered. "Probably not. Heyes was with 'em y'see." He sighed. "Anyway Heyes came back alone in a hurry. He told me the robbery had gone wrong. Jim an' some of the others had got caught. When I asked him what had happened, he jus' pulled a face. I learned much later that it was possibly his fault. Anyway, the rest of the gang were gunning for him. So we left. In the nick of time too."

"Where did you go?"

The Kid shrugged. "We figgered the gang were on our trail an' so we had to take steps to lose 'em. We went south. I was all for keeping on going, down to Texas but Heyes he insisted we stopped in Denver. Took me to a big ole mansion. To the home of a man he knew, called Soapy Saunders."

"Soapy?" Caroline laughed.

"Well ain't his real name, ma'am. Not that sure Saunders is either. He's been real helpful to us over the years 'specially when we were trying to go straight. Helped him out a time or two as well." He smiled. "Nice ole gentleman."

"How did Heyes know him?"

The Kid growled. "Aw, after we split afore, Heyes found his uncle. Lived with him a while. Met Soapy 'bout that time. Dunno how exactly but he seemed real fond of Heyes. Looked at me kinda funny though when Heyes first introduced us." The Kid frowned slightly as if he had suddenly remembered something. "Anyways, Soapy was well aware of what happened with Jim Santana. Agreed that we should stay outta Wyoming for a while. He knew a man who ran a ranch in Texas, William McKendricks. So he sent us there."

He sighed. "We spent a year or two doing ranch work, got to know McKendricks and his family well. Helped him out years later when his boy got killed. Went down to Mexico and brought back his murdering wife."

"You are jumping ahead, Jed."

"Huh? Oh yeah. We settled into ranch work. Or so I thought. Even went on a couple of cattle drives up the Chisholm Trail to break up the routine."

"Hard work."

He rolled his eyes. "Too much like hard work. Heyes was getting restless an' ending up in Kansas didn't sit too well him. After the second time, we quit. Took our pay and headed West. See he kinda liked Wyoming and he figured that things had cooled down enough for us to go back. Afore I knew it we were riding into the canyon at Devil's Hole. When I asked him why we'd come back here, he gave me that big ole sly grin of his and told me he had unfinished business. When I asked what, he wouldn't tell me straight off. Found out soon enough though."

He looked across the table.

"Sure ya wanna know all this?"

"You can't stop there, Jed," Caroline cried, in horror. "What happened?"

"Sure?" the Kid grinned, mischievously. He was enjoying seeing Caroline, his prim and proper wife so enthralled in his story. Made her seem more human somehow and he kinda liked that.

"YES," she insisted and waved a hand for him to continue.

"Okay," he conceded, with a resigned air. "As we rode into the yard, the gang came out to meet us. Wheat swaggering out in front of 'em all. There were a few new faces but mostly they had all been there when we were there afore. Well ya coulda cut the atmosphere with a knife. Heyes dismounted all unconcerned and walked up to 'em. I got down too but kept my distance a little. Weren't too sure what was going to happen. Wheat started to challenge Heyes for riding in bold as brass. Heyes let him bluster on, nodding in agreement with everything Wheat was saying. Heyes has this habit of standing with his hands on his hips when he's taking control of the situation so I kinda knew he was up to something. You finished? Heyes asked when Wheat paused for breath. Yeah, I reckon, says Wheat. Good, says Heyes. Now its my turn. An' afore anyone could move, me included, Heyes had decked him. I mean really decked him. Knocked him out cold."

"His temper?"

"Naw," the Kid said, shaking his head. "Heyes knew what he was doing. See he figgered that the only way he would get the fellas to follow him was to reduce the threat Wheat posed." He pursed his lips. "Subtlety wouldn't work. Had to be something fast and decisive." He paused. "That an' me giving a demonstration of my fast draw to keep a lid on things. It worked."

"Heyes knew you would do that."

The Kid nodded slowly. "Yep, I reckon. I couldn't see his face but I saw his shoulders relax. I think he hoped I'd back him and was relieved when I did."

"Then he is manipulative."

"Yeah, but we had words later on. I told him I would only back him again IF he told me what he was planning BEFORE he did anything. He promised." He rolled his eyes. "And he reminds me of that every single time he wakes me in the middle of the night." He paused. "He's more or less kept to his word since then."

"That was it? The pair of you rode in and took over."

"Pretty much."

"And Wheat?"

"Heyes was there when Wheat came round. They had a talk. A long talk. In private. Came to an understanding. Once we'd pulled off our first lucrative job, the fellas mostly forgot about the way Heyes and me had rode in and demoted Wheat. Although HE hadn't a course."

"I don't understand. Why did Heyes want to go back to being an outlaw? It doesn't make sense. He had the chance to put all that behind him."

The Kid nodded. "I've thought about that a lot over the years. The only explanation I could come up with was that he'd found something he was good at. When he does things he has to be good at it, else he don't wanna do it. He could round up cows, brand 'em an' all the rest of it but he was average. An' I know he was bored. Being an outlaw, now that was something special. Outwitting the law, working out ways of getting his hands on all that money and not get caught. Now there was a challenge, one that he was up for. Someone asked us once why we robbed banks. He told 'em 'cos that's where the money is kept."

"That's glib of him."

"Yeah." The Kid pursed his lips thoughtfully. "True though."

Caroline hesitated. She could tell that the Kid felt a pride and protectiveness towards his cousin.

"Why did you go along with him?"

It was a while before the Kid answered. "I guess there was nothing else for me. I didn't want to be alone, Caroline. That's happened a lot in my life an' I don't like the feeling. Heyes is my only family an' I didn't want to lose him. I know. I know. He got me a price on m'head. But rather that than being alone and dying in a gunfight."

"Do you think that would have happened?"

The Kid nodded, slowly. "Yeah. I do."

"So when Heyes married … ?"

"I'm real happy for him," he interrupted. "Mary is a good woman and she'll keep him straight."

They looked at each other. The Kid stood up slowly. The light-hearted atmosphere of a few minutes before had suddenly turned serious.

"Excuse me, Ma'am. I need some air," he nodded and walked away.

Caroline took a deep breath. There was so much more to this man. So much more, she wanted to know. Unfortunately she wasn't about to find out anymore just yet.

ASJASJASJASJ

When he returned to the house, it was mid-afternoon. He found Caroline in the music room, playing the piano.

"Ya play real nice ma'am," he said, as he walked in looking embarrassed.

Caroline looked up and smiled in greeting. She stopped playing and turned on the stool as he came over to her.

"Jed. Where did you go?"

"Out an' about. Big place ya got here. Went down to the river and did some thinking."

Caroline closed the lid of the piano and looked up at him. She was surprised when he took her hand and kissed it.

"I'm sorry I walked out this morning," he apologised. "I shouldna done that."

"It's me who must apologise, Jed. You tell a good story and I became caught up in it. I forgot that I was prying into your personal life."

She was surprised and bemused when he laughed.

"What is so funny?"

"Oh Caroline." He crouched at her feet, holding both of her hands on her lap. "Ya married a man ya didn't know. It's only natural ya wanna know 'bout him. I guess my life does seem like a book. There are whole dime novels written 'bout me an' Heyes an' the Devil's Hole Gang." He smiled at her. "The Adventures of Kid Curry and the Lightening Tree. Now that's a good'un. You should read that."

Caroline smiled.

"Tell ya what." He rose to his feet. "Let me ring for some lunch an' I'll tell ya some more. An' then you can tell ME 'bout YOU. Deal?"

ASHASASJASJ

Sometime later, they walked arm in arm into the small dining room, where the servants had hastily set out a lunch for Mr Curry. Caroline watched patiently in silence as he ate. Already eaten, she sipped at a cup of tea. When at last he finished, he looked at her.

"Ya think I was led by Heyes don't ya?"

"Weren't you?"

The Kid made a steeple of his hands and then wrung them. "Yes and no. Heyes is a manipulator sure but it only works if a person is ripe for manipulating. At the time we returned to the gang, yes I guess ya could say I was ripe for it. As time went on an' things settled, I became more sure of myself, my own man. He found it harder and harder to talk me round. He grumped and wheedled but gradually he came to realise that I wasn't fighting him for the sake of it. See like I said, Heyes is real smart but I can be too. Jus' not in the same way as he is. In time, he was appreciating that I can see things slightly different to him. Used that to our advantage. That's when we became as close as we are now. We're kinda two halves of the same man. Sure we fight an' bicker but we always make up." He shrugged. "Who doesn't? I'll never betray him or let him down and he won't do that to me neither. I guess that's why I feel the way I do about what I've done to him by being here with you."

He swallowed hard. "Mary coming along threw our partnership, our friendship, our closeness up in the air. I could see it happening in front of my eyes. There was nothing, I could do to stop it. And I didn't want to. Mary is just the sorta woman Heyes needed." He smiled. "So much had changed for us in so short a time. I jus' have …. difficulty in adjusting to new things is all. Don't mean I won't get there. Jus' a bit slower than other folks I guess."

Caroline chose her words carefully. "Marrying me, coming to live here, miles away from what you know that's a big change."

"Yes ma'am. A necessary one. For me. For Heyes and Mary. They don't need me hanging around. They're trying to start a new life together. So am I. When I go back, I reckon I'll know who I wanna be. In the meantime, you've got a problem I can help with." He threw down his table napkin.

"Your turn."

Caroline took a deep breath. "There's really not that much to tell. I was born in Boston. I'm an only child. I had a governess until I was fourteen and then I went to school. I started as a day student and when Mama and Papa moved out here, I became a boarder during the week. I shared a room with Frances Joslin, who you've met." The Kid nodded. "Frances Trelawney as she was then of course. We became great friends. I was bridesmaid at her wedding."

"You're jumping ahead now," the Kid, smiled.

"That's because there's not much that happened in between."

"What about ya Mama?"

Caroline became serious. "Yes of course." She took a deep breath. "Mama died from consumption. I was kept at school so I didn't see how ill she was. Papa said in hindsight that was the hardest thing he did and I know he regretted it. May be that is why after she died, Papa and I became so close. When I left school, I accompanied him everywhere. Until earlier this year when he … left me as well."

Her voice shook a little as she finished. "Not exactly riveting is it? As a life history."

The Kid reached for her hand across the table and squeezed it. "Till now. Reckon things have picked up some for ya now."

Caroline smiled slowly. "Life has certainly become more interesting just recently."


	4. Cowdry

Cowdry

"I asked Johnson to arrange some interviews for you. On Tuesday afternoon at two o'clock. There are three applicants," Caroline said.

She and the Kid had alighted from the carriage that had brought them home from a luncheon. They walked slowly up the wide curved staircase to the terrace together side by side.

"Interviews for what?" the Kid queried.

"For a valet."

"But I have Cowdry." Having someone look after his clothes and personal needs was still a new concept. Yet he liked the man assigned to him. Cowdry seemed to be proficient in what he did. He often knew what the Kid would require before the Kid did. For which he was grateful. He didn't want to let Caroline down and with Cowdry's help, he hadn't so far. He found him personable and easy to talk with, not stuffy unlike some of the Fairfield Place staff. If he cared to think about it, he was relying heavily on that young man.

"He's a footman, not a valet."

"I like him, why can't I keep him?"

"He's a footman." Caroline stopped at the top of the steps and repeated her reason. She looked exasperated that she had to repeat herself.

The Kid stopped and frowned. "Seems to be doing a good job to me. I've no complaints."

"He's very new at that position. You need someone more experienced." Caroline shook her head. As far as she was concerned, the matter was decided.

She swept across the terrace to the main door, where Johnson was waiting.

The Kid explored his mouth with his tongue and followed quickly, nodding to Johnson as he passed inside.

On the stairs, the Kid caught Caroline by her arm. "Hold up, Caroline!" She gave him a surprised look and turned to carry on up.

He licked his lips, let her arm go and waited until they reached the gallery before saying anything further.

"Caroline, can't we talk about this?"

She stopped with her hand on the handle of her bedroom door. She looked up at him, challenge in her eye. "What would you like to say?"

While the Kid was still considering, Caroline opened her door.

"I thought so," she said and shut the door on him.

The Kid growled, ducked into his own room and through the connecting door.

"Caroline, we need to talk about this!"

Caroline was sitting at her dressing table. Margaret was helping her take off her jewellery. When he realised that Margaret was present, he stopped. Softening his voice, he said, "Can we talk about this? Please?"

"There is nothing to talk about."

"Yes there is!" He didn't stamp his foot but he might have done. Cowdry had become his ally here in Boston, where everything was new and unfamiliar. He wasn't about to give him up without a fight. So he turned to the wide-eyed ladies maid and said not too politely, "Margaret. Give us some privacy huh?"

Margaret gasped and looked at Caroline for guidance. Caroline took a deep breath and nodded. As Margaret fled, Caroline rose slowly. The Kid took a step back. Oops, he might have miscalculated here.

"You will NEVER dismiss Margaret like that again!" she said, controlling her temper.

The Kid frowned and couldn't meet her eye. He felt like a naughty schoolboy.

"I'll … apologise to her later. But we were having a conversation Caroline! About MY valet." He rolled his eyes. Was he REALLY saying that? "I like Cowdry and I wanna keep him." He went to hitch his thumbs into the gun belt that wasn't there. For a second, that knowledge discomforted him and made him feel vulnerable. Pushing it from his mind, he pulled back his shoulders and stood square.

The look she was giving him reminded him of standing in front of the class and he felt his determination begin to crumble. Just as he had on occasion all those years ago.

"You require a valet, Jed." Caroline said patiently. "As I have already explained, Cowdry is not fully trained. To you he may appear to be doing a good job but he's not experienced enough for a man in your position."

"Neither am I! An' I don't even know what my position is!"

They glared at each other, neither wanting to back down.

Caroline took a deep breath. "Jed, I know this is strange to you and that's exactly why you need an experienced valet. To help you."

Seeing Caroline had given some ground, the Kid calmed. "Yes all this is strange but me an' Cowdry are settled, Caroline," he said, more quietly. "We're understanding each other and I like him. I DON'T wanna go through … breaking in a new valet again." He was firm. Even though he knew he was on unfamiliar ground, he was determined to dig his heels in over this. It would be a small victory but a necessary one.

"Jed, Cowdry is a footman," Caroline repeated. "A quite junior footman at that. There's a progression to follow. He can't go from junior footman to valet in one go."

"Why the hell not?" he demanded, and unwittingly adopted a Heyesian pose, arms akimbo. "He's doing a good job. Doesn't … merit … mean anythin'?"

Caroline frowned at his cursing. He wasn't about to apologise and she could see that. She took another deep breath. "It's not done," she said, insisting but knowing that wasn't good enough.

"Well it is by me!" He raised a finger to stall any more protests. "No Caroline. We're talking about MY valet. This HAS to be MY choice." He cooled and moderated his tone. "Listen, I know I'm not gonna get my way on most things, I accept that but this is MY valet. Mine. Cowdry's a good man. He won't let me down, I know it. Allow me this one, huh?" Besides, he thought, he was likely not to need him for long. It would be a good opportunity for the young man, if nothing else.

Caroline drew herself up, about to argue. Then seeing his determination, she sighed and nodded in resignation. "Very well." It pained her to say it. "You may keep Cowdry," she gave in, begrudgingly.

The Kid grinned, relieved. "Thank you."

"He's on probation. If he doesn't work out … ."

The Kid nodded. He crossed to her. "I know, I know. If it doesn't work out … ." He sighed. "Then I'll … interview for a replacement. How's that?"

Caroline nodded. "That's acceptable."

They had come to an understanding. Each had given some ground but both had what they wanted.

"Well then that's settled."

"Yes it is."

Neither wanted to continue the conversation but equally both were reluctant to just part. Caroline hesitated and went to sit down. The Kid stopped her.

"Hey, Mrs Curry." The Kid took her by the upper arms and tried to encourage her to look at him.

Finally, she did and he smiled, ruefully. "I think we just had our first fight."

She smiled slowly. "Yes I think we just did."

He kissed her gently at first, then tightened his grip and settled her cosily with a more affectionate kiss. "Then it really does feel like we're married!" he purred. He held her close and seemed reluctant to let her go. He kept his face close. "Can I go tell him?" he whispered.

She nodded. "Yes. Before I change my mind."

He kissed her again and let her go.

"Tell Johnson to put him on junior valet wages. He'll know what that is," Caroline called after him.

The Kid waved a hand acknowledging that he had heard.

Downstairs, the Kid crossed the hall to the concealed door leading down to the servant's hall. Behind he found a set of stairs and he walked down them slowly. It was the first time he had been "below stairs". Caroline had neglected that part of the tour; she had only waved a hand in the direction of the concealed door that lead down.

He was amazed at what he found. It was like a whole new house! Not as elaborate as upstairs of course. This "house" was functional and modest, with little embellishment. Servants bustled about carrying things and one gasped when they saw him. He came to the bottom of the stairs and wondered how he would go about finding Cowdry. He needn't have worried.

"Can I help you sir?" Johnson asked, appearing suddenly pulling on his jacket. Briefly, the Kid wondered how he knew he was there. How did any of the servants know what was going on and what was needed? It was a mystery for a later day.

"Ah! Johnson, I'm looking for Cowdry."

"Did you ring sir?" Johnson looked alarmed that Cowdry had ignored the bell.

"Nope. I just wanna word. Where can I find him please?

"I'll send him right up sir."

"No. No. I'm here now. Just tell me where he is and I'll go find him."

The butler gave an incredulous look. Obviously a step too far for in his opinion. "This way sir." He led the Kid down the central corridor and turned left. Cowdry was in the butler's pantry with another member of staff, polishing cutlery.

"Ah, Cowdry!" The Kid smiled.

Cowdry looked up wide-eyed. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't hear you ring!"

"That's 'cos I didn't. Can I have a word please? Out here?" The Kid indicated the corridor.

Cowdry glanced at his fellow polisher, who widened his eyes at this unusual occurrence. The folks "upstairs" rarely, if ever, came downstairs. Cowdry put down his cloth and swallowing nervously slowly joined the Kid in the corridor. Was he in trouble? He couldn't think why that might be. He hoped he hadn't inadvertently done something wrong.

Johnson was hovering and the Kid flicked him away crossly. He waited until Johnson had disappeared around the corner before turning quickly back to Cowdry.

"Listen Cowdry y'know I need a valet?" he said, conspiratorially.

"Yes sir." Cowdry swallowed hard. He knew his position as valet to Mr Curry was only temporary.

"How would ya like to be my valet permanent?" Or for as long as I'm here, he thought but decided not to mention that. He wanted Cowdry to accept and suggesting there could be a timescale on it, might persuade the young man otherwise.

Cowdry looked at him wide eyed. "Really? I mean me sir? But I'm a fo…"

"Yes, yes, you're a footman! I've jus' had this conversation with my wife!" It was the Kid's turn to swallow hard. "Look!" He lowered his voice. "She's trying to stick me with someone new, who I haven't even met. But you and me … we've gotton to know each other haven't we? We're getting along okay aren't we?"

"Yes sir." Cowdry was unsure where this was leading.

"Good. Then what do ya say?" He saw Cowdry's hesitation. "I believe there's some extra money in it for you."

"Um … yes sir."

The Kid frowned. "Ya had to think 'bout that! Don't ya want the job?"

"Well sir it's not that. I DO want the job. It's just that I'm not sure whether I'll be ALLOWED the job sir."

"Why not?" The Kid growled and then it came to him. "'Cos ya're a footman! Sheesh!" He took a deep breath. "I've already cleared this with Mrs Curry so JOHNSON CAN'T OBJECT." He looked over his shoulder and caught the slight movement of the butler retreating further. The Kid turned back to Cowdry with a grin. "I can't see any objection, can you?"

Cowdry beamed both at his new employer's tactics and pleased that he now had an unexpected promotion. "No sir, then I accept. Thank you sir."

The Kid slapped him on the arm and grinned. "Good man. Now ya best not let me down. There's a lot riding on this. For both of us y'hear?"

"Yes sir. I know the job. I haven't had much practise so I'm grateful for the opportunity. Thank you for your trust in me."

The Kid chuckled. "I haven't had much practise at this either so I guess we'll havta work it out between us. So if that's settled, I'll tell Johnson you start now," he said, giving Cowdry a wink.

Cowdry beamed as the Kid walked away.

Johnson hadn't retreated very far.

"Ah!" The Kid made out he was surprised to see him. "In case ya didn't hear good enough, Cowdry is now my valet permanent. Let's um … ." The Kid put a hand to his chin and adopted a thinking face. "See that Cowdry is made up to junior valet and is paid accordingly." He grinned at Johnson's shocked face. "Starting right now." He nodded and stepped by him. "Thank you."

With that, he took the stairs back up to the main hall, two at a time. To his surprise, Caroline was standing on the balcony waiting for him. He gave her a delighted grin and a double thumbs-up sign. Shaking her head in amusement, she went back into her room.

ASJASJASJASJ

Later at dinner, the subject of Cowdry's rapid promotion came up again.

"I take it Cowdry accepted the post as your valet?" Caroline inquired, casually.

"Yep." The Kid took a slurp of soup.

Caroline idly trailed her spoon in her bowl.

"He understands …. ."

"Yep." The Kid concentrated on breaking his biscuit in half. "Ya ain't changing your mind, Caroline," he said, with a warning.

"I'm not going to. I'm prepared to give him a chance if you are."

"Good."

Caroline watched him as he attended his meal. The more she became to know this impulsive husband of hers, the more she liked. He wasn't anything like the husband she thought she would have and she was glad he wasn't. Life with Jed Curry was interesting and compelling. She found she wanted to know more.

They both know he would defer to her in most things. This was her lifestyle not his. Yet today he had dug his heels in over something he wanted. She admired his strategy. It was subtle and ultimately winning. His determination over Cowdry told her that he would pick his fights carefully and when he did, he expected to win them. She would have to learn to recognise those times otherwise, things between them could become difficult. Yet today had perhaps been about something else.

"How are you feeling, Mr Jones?" she asked, softly. "More comfortable?"

Her frowned at her, not fathoming her meaning at first. Then realisation dawned.

"Yes ma'am. I know I've a lot to learn. Take some time and I'll need some help but I'll get there."

Caroline smiled. "Having Cowdry will assist you."

The Kid smiled back. "Yes. Having Cowdry will help a lot."

Caroline looked down at her soup. "I'm glad that you're feeling more comfortable," she said, slowly. "I did wonder if perhaps you would … ."

"Nope. Not my way."

She looked up sharply. The Kid saw he needed to say more. "Look I know what ya thinking. That I would jus' take all this … ." He waved a hand round the room. "… for as long as it lasts. This is important to you Caroline. I'm doing a job and I wanna do it as best I can. That's what ya're paying me for."

Caroline froze. He didn't see the look on her face as he attended to his soup.

"So … you still think of this … as a job?" she said, quietly.

"'Course."

When he next looked up, she had her head down. He frowned. DID he still think of this as just a job? It hadn't really been a job since their wedding night. Not in the conventional meaning. The more he thought about it the more he wanted to retract his casual statement that this was just a job to him. Yet the longer he left it, the more difficult it was to back track. He didn't really know what this was for him and he couldn't even try and put it into words. It hung between them in silence. When Johnson came to serve the main course, it was a relief to both of them.

ASJASJASJASJ

Getting to know how the house worked. His place in it. Getting to know his wife. Now he had to develop a working relationship with a man employed to take care of his clothes and personal needs. All strange and new. It was no wonder he began to feel out of sorts.

A heavy cold kept him in bed for several days. Lying in bed frustrated him and he tried getting up. He got as far as the edge of the bed before Cowdry caught him.

"I don't think madam wants you to get out of bed just yet, sir," Cowdry said, doubtfully.

The Kid looked round. He'd already accepted he wasn't going any further. His body had told him that. He sighed. "I hate all this lying around," he groaned, making movements to get back in. He groaned again, when Cowdry had to help him lift his legs. Cowdry covered him up and arranged the pillows behind him. Sitting up would have to do.

"Come and play cards with me, huh?" he sighed, reaching for the pack on the nightstand.

"Cards, sir?"

"Yeah, ya do play don't ya?"

"No sir."

The Kid growled. "Not at all?"

"No sir."

The Kid huffed. "Well come and talk to me then," he said, irritably.

Cowdry hesitated. "I really shouldn't sir."

"Oh come on Paul! There's just us here. I won't tell. How's that?"

Cowdry smiled faintly. "Very well sir."

"And ya can stop calling me sir!"

"No I definitely couldn't do that sir." Cowdry shook his head furiously.

The Kid nodded, reluctantly. "Well sit! Sit!"

Cowdry sat nervously on the chair by the bed. The Kid looked at him. "How're we doing? You and me? Are we becoming a …a … team?"

"I'm not sure I know what you mean sir?"

"Oh yeah ya do! You said yes to being my permanent valet didn't ya? You must think … ya must … find it … okay working for me?" He licked his lips and frowned. For some reason Cowdry's answer seemed important to him.

Cowdry tried to stop the grin that came. "Well sir, I have to confess that it's … interesting … working for you sir."

The Kid grinned. "Interesting, huh? Let me tell ya Paul, this whole way of life is an eye-opener to me!" He paused. "You know who I am don't ya? What I used to do for a living?"

"Yes sir," Cowdry nodded.

"An' it don't bother ya?"

"No sir." Cowdry hesitated. "I understand that there's an amnesty."

"Yes that's right." The Kid leaned his head back and looked pensive. "Funny how life changes direction on ya ain't it? A few weeks ago I was shovelling … manure in a livery stable and now here I am."

He looked round at the room. "What about you Paul? You're not American are ya?"

"Not originally no sir. I'm from England. I came to America five years ago."

"And ya've worked for my wife since then?"

"I worked for Mr Fairfield first sir."

"Of course. What was he like?"

"A good employer sir."

The Kid grinned. "Good answer."

He liked the young man he'd fought so hard for. He was glad his instincts were proving correct.


	5. Below Stairs

Below Stairs

The Kid wandered downstairs to the servant's hall because he was bored. Caroline had gone somewhere, who knew where and he was at a loose end. The gardeners didn't need him today. He'd glanced at the study door and scowled. He was avoiding the letter awaiting finishing, er … starting in there. Practicing with his gun was an option but in truth, he was becoming less and less interested. In the first two weeks he'd been in Boston, he'd practiced anytime he could. After his bout of the grippe, possibly only a heavy cold depending on who you asked, he'd not been out once. Caroline and the social whirl she lived in was keeping him busy. At least, that was how he justified to himself, why gun practice had suddenly become less important.

Exploring downstairs was on his list of things to do so here he was. Appearing at the bottom of the stairs as the staff were having their mid-morning break. He pursed his lips and almost turned round to go back upstairs. He suddenly lost his nerve and didn't want to intrude. However, someone saw him, alerted the others and everyone hurriedly scrapped to their feet.

"May I help you sir?" Johnson asked.

"No. No. I'm sorry to have disturbed you," the Kid said, starting to turn but then stopped. What the hell? He was here now. "Yeah actually." He scratched his head. "I see ya having coffee. Could I have some please?"

"Yes sir of course. I'll send it up. To the drawing room?"

The Kid winced. "No." He looked at their faces. "Can I join you?" he asked, hopefully. "If I'm not imposing that is …"

"No sir. Ruby get Mr Curry a cup."

"You can sit here sir," said Cowdry, getting up.

"Thank you, Cowdry."

The Kid sat and Ruby placed a cup and saucer in front of him. Cowdry poured the coffee.

"Milk sir?"

"A little, thank you."

"Sugar sir?"

"No. Watching my weight," he grinned and picked up a spoon to stir anyway. He was aware that there was an awkward silence and nervous glances around the table. "So er what were ya talking about when I came in? Not me I hope."

"No, sir. Of course not," Johnson denied. Perhaps a little too quickly and the Kid gave him a look.

"We were talking about Vickers new lady friend sir," Cowdry said, brightly as he pulled up a spare chair. Vickers looked embarrassed.

The Kid smiled at the footman Vickers across the table from him. "Have ya been seeing her long?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"A few weeks sir."

"And ya like her?"

Vickers flushed. "Yes sir."

"Good."

The Kid looked round at the table full of faces, all looking at him and wondering. "I'm sorry if I'm making ya uncomfortable by being down here. I er just feel that if we're gonna be living together then I outta know who ya all are. Names and what ya do would be a start."

He swallowed and when no one replied, decided to press on regardless. "Cowdry I know obviously. And Johnson. And Mrs Clarke, I've seen ya discussing menus with my wife. And Vickers and Thompson I've seen ya upstairs doing … ." He waved a hand. "Whatever ya do."

He looked to the end of the table. "But I don't think I've met the young ladies at the end. I've seen ya all wandering around 'course." He smiled in their direction.

"Well there's Mary and Ruby, the kitchen maids. They do not go upstairs except on special occasions. Lucy, Sophia and Alice are downstairs maids. They service the main reception rooms. Emily and Polly are upstairs maids. They look after the bedrooms. However, we're all flexible and can assist with duties elsewhere should the need arise," Johnson explained and the Kid nodded. He kinda got the distinction.

"Pleased to meet y'all. Oh and Margaret I didn't see ya there!" He frowned. "But this isn't everyone is it?"

"No sir. Mrs Hopkins the housekeeper is out at the moment and Mr Whitfield the under butler has a mornings leave."

The Kid nodded. "That's everyone indoors?"

"Yes sir."

"I've met most of the gardeners but others work outside too don't they?"

"Yes sir. Besides the eight gardeners, there's Mr Bailey, stable manager … ."

"I've met him."

"He's in charge of ten lads."

The Kid nodded.

"Then there's the estate manager, Mr Lesley … ."

"I've met him too."

"The three girls in the estate office … ."

"Said hi to them."

"And finally the four members of estate maintenance sir."

"Seen 'em from a distance." The Kid rolled his eyes. "Oooh kaaay. No chance of being lonely then?" he grinned. He took a sip of his coffee.

"Have you settled in sir?" Thompson asked, hesitantly. Johnson frowned at him and the Kid smiled.

"Yes thank you. Ya've all made me feel very welcome. This is as much a surprise to me as I expect it is for you. As ya mighta guessed this kinda life is not … something I'm used to." He sipped his coffee again.

Silence descended on the servant's hall and it appeared to be up to the Kid to break it.

"Mrs Clarke what's for dinner tonight?" he asked, seizing on a topic for conversation close to his heart.

"Madam has asked me to prepare Confit de Canard tonight sir."

The Kid nodded. "Which is? In American?"

Mrs Clarke translated. "It's duck sir."

The Kid nodded and pursed his lips. He winced. "Don't suppose it's too late to change it? Not really my thing …" He looked hopeful. Of course he'd eaten duck before, one that he'd shot and prepared. This method of preparation was different and too fussy. He didn't know how it was done here but he did know he didn't care for it. Being choosy about his food was something new. However, if this was all he was going to get to eat tonight then he was going to make sure it was something he liked.

Mrs Clarke hesitated. "If you prefer sir I could prepare Beef Bourguignon instead?"

The Kid smiled and took a deep breath. He'd had that before. Fancy beef stew. "Yes that's much better. Don't worry I'll tell Mrs Curry I asked for the change. I'll get into trouble not you."

He drained his cup and then got up. They all got up too.

"Well I'll best leave ya to get on. Thanks for the coffee." He smiled pleasantly and was about to leave when he turned back.

"Sir?" Johnson asked.

The Kid frowned, fingers in the front pockets of his jeans. "There's something I've been a wondering 'bout. Perhaps ya could help me out."

"If I can sir."

"Well, when I pull the bell cord in the corner of a room upstairs, after a few minutes someone comes. How …?" He frowned, suddenly wondering how to phrase the question he wanted to ask.

Johnson smiled. "Allow me to show you sir."

The butler took the Kid into the hall. High on the wall was a board the Kid had failed to notice on his way downstairs. A succession of small bells with the name of the room underneath. Now he understood.

"When I pull the cord upstairs a little bell rings on here. Depending on which room we're in."

"Yes sir."

"So how do ya decide who comes? D'ya toss a coin? Or take turns?"

"No sir. It depends where the bell is ringing. If it is from your bedroom, then naturally Mr Cowdry will come. From Madam's bedroom then Margaret will answer."

The Kid nodded. That made sense. "This is the hall. Surposin' ya're all out and about busy."

"You will note sir that the bells differ in size. Their tones are different and we're accustomed to know which bell is which by the sound sir."

The Kid nodded. It wasn't magic but a system. On reflection, perhaps he preferred magic.

"What about downstairs? Isn't that more complicated?"

"Yes sir. In SOME households, only the butler will answer a downstairs bell. However, Mr Fairfield allowed a footman or one the downstairs maids to answer a call from the library or music room IF neither Mr Whitfield nor I am available for any reason. I will always answer the front door, a call from the drawing room or the study. Mr Whitfield will deputise in my absence or if there are simultaneous calls. Also from the dining room, if we're not already present."

"All seems to run smoothly."

Johnson allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. "Yes sir. It does."

The Kid smiled back. "Thank ya for explaining. Keep up the good work."

With a nod, he turned and took the stairs up, two at a time.

"Yes sir, I will," Johnson murmured.

When the door shut at the top of the stairs shut, Mrs Clarke appeared at Johnson's side. "Well what was that all about?"

Johnson shook his head. "I'm sure I don't know, Mrs Clarke. He's a puzzle and there's no mistake."

ASJASJASJASJ

"This isn't Confit de Canard," Caroline said, when her dinner was put in front of her that evening.

"Ah! No! Forgot to tell ya." The Kid took a deep breath. "I asked for it to be changed."

"Why?" she demanded.

He swallowed hard.

"'Cos I don't like duck," he said. "Least not the way ya prepare it here."

"I see." Caroline looked at him, suspiciously. "And when did this happen?"

"This morning. I went downstairs to have coffee …."

"You went downstairs to have coffee!" She looked incredulous. "Jed, you should ring for some. It will be brought for you even if I'm not here."

The Kid looked uncomfortable. "Well I wasn't gonna stay but …. . Look, I was bored alright! I needed somethin' to do." He frowned hard. "Anyway while I was down there I asked what was for dinner." He shrugged. "An' when I found out, I asked if it could be changed." Now he tried a weak smile. "And lucky ole me it could be."

Caroline smiled faintly. "Yes lucky you, Mr Jones," she said, under her breath so only he heard. She glanced at the servants who were still there. "You'll need to tall me Jed if there is anything else you don't like."

"Oh I eat most things. Jus' not duck."

"Very well, I will instruct Mrs Clarke never to cook it again."

He nodded.

ASJASJASJASJ

The Kid would make a point of having morning coffee or afternoon tea with the inside staff at least once a month. The outside staff, especially the gardeners he saw more regularly and he found working alongside them, kinda relaxing. In a strange, hard on the back sorta way.

Caroline and the Kid quickly took Boston society by storm and they became THE couple to invite. Once the Kid had weeded out, in his own mind, who was genuine and who wasn't, he made many friends. Then when Max Joslin introduced him at his club, even more.

At Max's insistence, the Kid ventured onto the golf course. He was reluctant to play at first. Fearing he would make a mess of it or make himself look a fool. He needn't have worried. After the first couple of lessons, his natural manual dexterity and keen eyesight proved an advantage. His handicap soon started to tumble and he found he began to enjoy playing. Playing golf quickly became his new fascination. Practising with his handgun became less and less. His previous much loved possession consigned to the bottom drawer of the study desk.

All in all the Kid was settling in surprising well to his new life. It was a surprise to him and to the staff. Once everyone was over the shock of him, things started to settle.

"I think you're getting too familiar Jed," Caroline said, one evening as he joined her in the drawing room after dinner. She had caught him laughing with Lucy and Vickers in the hall.

"Caroline, I'm simply getting to know the folks I'm living with. What's wrong with that?" he asked, sitting down.

"They're servants. You must remember that."

He shrugged. "I know that. Still folks with tongues in their heads and personalities though ain't they? I can't just ignore them, Caroline. Don't forget. I ain't born to all this."

"Then please try. It's unsettling."

"For who?" He got up suddenly and helped himself to a whisky. "I'm more unsettled by not being able to chat to folks." He turned back. "Look, I understand that I'm in a different position." He moved to perch on the arm of the sofa next to her. "I'm not gonna let this go too far. I know where the line is and so do they." He smiled at her, inclining his neck, willing her to say something against it.

Caroline took a deep breath. "Very well but if this causes a problem, I shall be the first to say I told you so!" There was a hint of a smile on her face now.

The Kid grinned. "Agreed." He settled himself more comfortably on the sofa beside her and took a sip of his drink.

"So how is everyone?" Caroline asked casually, a moment later.

"Everyone is fine," he nodded, without looking at her. "They're liked a well-oiled machine. Do ya wanna know that Langley expects the last of this year's tomatoes in the greenhouses to ripen next week?"

Caroline considered. "Not really."

"I do," the Kid nodded and took a sip. "I like tomatoes." He kept a straight face, pursed his lips and looked around the room. Anywhere but at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her mouth twitching into a smile.

"Then that's good," she said, knowingly.

"Yes it is," he agreed, swinging his crossed leg and nodding.

He smiled at her now. She smiled back. What was she thinking? This beautiful wife of his? He had only been here a matter of weeks but surprisingly he felt settled. Almost at home. He liked most of the folks he had met, friends of Caroline, the household servants, the outside servants. Everyone had been helpful. He was beginning to find it hard to remember what life was like before he had met Caroline. Perhaps he didn't want to remember that life again. It was a thought that unsettled him at first. When he gave some more thought to it, he found he was really quite calm. As he looked at Caroline again, he knew something was happening between them and he realised that he was excited to know what that could become.


	6. Uncle Robert

Uncle Robert

A few days later, they had guests for dinner, Frances Joslin and her husband Max. The two men had re-joined the ladies after dinner and now stood either side of the fireplace, the Kid leaning his elbow on the mantelpiece, head on his hand. He'd worked in the garden all afternoon and he was tired. As much as he liked the Joslins, he wished they would go so he could go to bed. Of course, he was too polite to say anything but he wasn't joining in the conversation in the hope they would take the hint.

Suddenly there was a commotion from the hall. The Kid took his head from his hand in interest. The drawing room door flew open and Caroline's uncle stormed in. Robert Kinsey was a visitor they had been expecting. He was long overdue.

"Caroline!"

Caroline was on her feet immediately. "Uncle Robert, how nice of you to call."

Before anyone could move, he had seized Caroline by the shoulders.

"What the hell have you done?" he yelled, angrily shaking her.

Frances had risen to her feet as the unexpected caller burst in. She immediately joined Max by the fireplace. He put an arm round her protectively. They knew why Robert Kinsey was there. It wasn't their business and best they stood out of the way.

However, the Kid flew in the opposite direction. He wrestled Kinsey away from Caroline with a firm grip of his shoulders.

"Take ya hands off my wife!" he yelled and pushed Kinsey away. He stumbled against a chair and slumped into it. Enraged by the manhandling, Kinsey snarled up at him, hands on the arms, about to lever himself up. The Kid leaned over him, with his hand raised in a fist, threatening and Kinsey rethought his plan.

Caroline staggered back at the abruptness of her uncle's release, and righted herself. She took a deep breath and composed herself. She abhorred violence and had no wish to witness it here in her home between her husband and uncle. "Jed!"

Johnson appearing in the doorway momentarily distracted her. "I'm sorry madam ….!" His eyes flicked round the room and took in the scene.

"Shut the door, Johnson please."

Johnson was very pleased to do so but equally concerned. Should he call the police? He shut the door nonetheless and then quite out of character for the formal butler, hovered outside and listened.

"How dare you!" Kinsey yelled at the Kid.

"How dare YOU! Have ya no manners? Ya don't come into someone's home like that." The Kid was breathing heavily. He wanted nothing more than to punch this odious man but he knew he would be in a heap of trouble if he did.

"I've every right! That's my niece."

"Don't matter who she is. Ya don't come into someone's home like that!" the Kid snarled. Any provocation, anything small and his fist would fly. And land.

"Caroline," Robert Kinsey, growled, choosing to ignore this man for a moment. He moderated his tone. "What's all this nonsense about you marrying?"

Caroline drew herself up. "Yes I have married. This is my husband, Jedediah Curry."

Kinsey flicked a glance at the raised fist, too near to his face for comfort. He quickly dismissed the owner of the fist as a threat. Seeing instead a young socialite, wearing an expensive suit. He frowned slightly. But wait, wasn't there also a rumour about him being …. ?

"Also known in some parts as Kid Curry," Caroline added.

Kinsey stared at her open-mouthed. Rumours were one thing but to have them confirmed by Caroline herself put a different complexion on the situation. Robert looked back at the man in front of him, now seeing him properly for the first time. He frowned for a moment and then his eyes widened in recognition.

"You!"

"Me," the Kid confirmed.

"The man from the livery stable?" Kinsey looked at Caroline incredulously. "YOU'RE Kid Curry?" He gave a short humourless laugh. "Oh, Caroline! Do you really think you'll get away with it? Passing off this … this … cowboy as KID Curry." He laughed again at the ridiculousness of it.

"Mr Kinsey," the Kid, started slowly and patiently. Kinsey may or may not have noticed the deep ominous tone in which he spoke. "Think back to that night. WHAT did I have in m'hand? I'll help ya. COCKED in m'hand?" He paused as Kinsey did so. "Now think 'bout the RESTRAINT I showed that night. The RESTRAINT I'm showing right NOW."

Kinsey looked up at him and suddenly saw that there might just be some truth to the rumours. However, he was determined not to give in.

"I've every right to protect my niece." Kinsey snapped. "From herself it seems."

"Uncle, while I appreciate the sentiment, I do not need protecting. I'm fully aware of my actions." She took a deep breath. "Jed, please."

The Kid didn't move.

"Jed!"

The Kid slowly dropped his hand and move back a few feet. Just enough to allow Kinsey to compose himself.

The Kid looked back at Caroline, who nodded. She was fine and composed and prepared to take charge of the situation. The Kid sighed. Okay he'd let her deal with it but if Kinsey made a move to touch her again … . Caroline nodded. They both understood the other's position.

"Uncle … ."

The veins in Robert's forehead were bulging and he was quite red in the face. "Caroline you cannot marry some random cowboy and especially one who is deluded enough to try and fool you into thinking he's KID CURRY. There's …. ."

"Yes I can. And I did, Uncle Robert. I'm sorry you don't like it but you left me little choice. I was NOT going to allow you to browbeat me into marrying someone you can control so you can take over my affairs. I married a man of MY choosing and I'm very happy with that choice." The only sign that she was flustered was the slight shake in her voice. "And for your information he IS Kid Curry."

"Don't matter WHO I am. Ya jus' need to know that Caroline and me are legally married. And that's an end to it," the Kid added, stepping further back to stand beside his wife.

"We'll see about that! This so called MARRIAGE is a sham and I will take you to court and I will prove it!" Kinsey waved a hand dismissively.

The Kid shrugged and looked at Caroline who had now slipped her hand under his arm. He looked back innocently. "Ya can try."

"Yes," she smiled in agreement.

"No." Kinsey shook his head, furiously. He stood up, feeling safer that the immediate threat to his person had faded. "There's more to it. You forced her into this."

The Kid pursed his lips and shook his head. "Nope. Caroline married me of her own free will. In fact, it was her idea."

Kinsey growled.

"Did he force you?" He asked the question of Caroline.

"No Uncle Robert he did not."

Kinsey scowled.

"Naw! Something's not right. The court will get to the bottom of this and then you … ." He pointed a finger at the Kid. "Will spend the rest of your life in prison WHERE YOU BELONG." He turned and marched out, throwing the door open so it swung back on its hinges.

The Kid started after him.

"Jed … ."

A waved hand stopped Caroline from going any further.

"Jus' escorting him off the premises," he threw over his shoulder.

The Kid followed Kinsey outside. Although dark, the gaslights on the terrace cast light over the forecourt. Hands on the stone balustrade of the terrace, the Kid watched as Kinsey crossed the forecourt, said something quickly to the coachman and climbed into the carriage. It drove away at speed. The Kid frowned. Unusual design. A double Brougham was rare and distinctive. Then he grunted and dismissed any significance. What he knew about Robert Kinsey, suggested he was trying for an impressive image, nothing more.

As the carriage disappeared into the darkness, the Kid gave the balustrade a final pat and turned away. He returned to the hall deep in thought. This probably wasn't going to be the last they heard of Robert Kinsey.

"Is everything alright sir?"

"Huh?"

The Kid looked up and saw the concerned butler.

"Yes." Then realising this was a frightening and unusual occurrence to the butler's ordered life, smiled weakly. "He's gone now. But I'd appreciate ya putting the word out to the rest of the … staff. That man is not welcome in this house again."

Johnson nodded. Surely, that was up to madam? But then again, this man WAS madam's husband.

"Yes sir."

ASJASJASJASJ

Caroline gave a deep breath and turned back to their guests. The altercation had clearly frightened Frances. Max was reassuring her by rubbing her shoulders.

"I do apologise for the interruption. I'm afraid we've expected Uncle Robert to visit for some time. It's unfortunate that he chose tonight to do so." Caroline sank onto the sofa.

"Oh Caroline, are you all right?" Frances crossed to her immediately, her own fear forgotten. "How awful, I had no idea. I thought once you were back here in Boston everything was resolved with your uncle."

Caroline smiled weakly and patted her friend's arm. "Yes, I'm fine. Just a little shaken." She sighed. "No I'm afraid Uncle Robert has objections to my marriage. I didn't expect him to take it quietly but I thought we could at least be civilised."

She looked up as the Kid came back. "Jed?" She held her hand up to him.

"He's gone," he said, simply and then added in reply to her look of concern. "I'm fine, Caroline. Don't ya worry 'bout me. Are YOU alright? He didn't hurt ya did he?"

When she shook her head, the Kid smiled and patted her hand. Looking up, he widened his eyes. Both guests were watching him with interest.

"What?" he asked with a frown, at their expressions.

"Well we'd heard rumours … ." Max started, glancing at Frances for confirmation. "But I suppose we didn't believe them."

"And YOU didn't say a word!" Frances looked at Caroline. "I thought you had told me everything, Caroline," she said, accusingly.

"What do you mean? I did tell you everything." Caroline was confused.

"Not about Jed being KID CURRY!"

"Ah!" Caroline had the grace to look shamefaced. "Well, I did tell you everything except for that tiny, little detail."

The Kid sat in an armchair and crossed his legs. He tapped his fingers on the side of the chair and looked amused at Caroline's unusual flustered state. Frances had the power to bring that about, it seemed. He filed that information away. It might prove useful in future.

"I thought I was your friend. The whole of Boston seemed to know before us … ME," Frances said, petulantly.

Caroline took a deep breath. "I was always quite clear that my husband name is Jedediah Curry. I simply let the rumour mill do the rest." She looked embarrassed.

"So you really are Kid Curry?" Max asked, with a hint of a smile. He had enjoyed the interplay between the two women as well.

The Kid winced and nodded. "Yeah, I'm really Kid Curry."

Max turned away chuckling.

"Are you ARE married?" Frances hesitated to ask but she simply had to know. She looked from one to the other.

The Kid levered himself up and went to sit at Caroline's other side. He took her hand. She seemed stunned but pleased when he kissed it. Shared looks passed between them. None of which was lost on Frances.

"Oh yes, we're well and truly married," the Kid confirmed, with a smile of pride. Caroline was smiling a happy smile.

They looked so cosy together on the sofa and Frances had no difficulty in believing.

Max sat down across the room. "If you're Kid Curry, then why haven't the police tried to arrest you? Surely, they know you're here. The whole of Boston seems to." He saw the look Frances gave him and shrugged. "Only asking."

"They tried to," Caroline snorted.

The Kid nodded. "Yes they did but they can't. They've no reason to. I have something called an amnesty, Max. The Governor of Wyoming wiped the slate clean a little over a year ago. I'm not wanted for anything anymore." He looked at Caroline and gave her hand a squeeze. "I know I can't change who I used to be but … well … I'm not that man anymore."

Max smiled. "You look a happy couple. Frances and I couldn't be more pleased for you."

"Thank you, Max. Unfortunately, Uncle Robert seems determined to be difficult. I don't think we've heard the last of this. Especially now he knows who you are." She looked at the Kid in concern.

"I've met plenty of men like him 'afore, Caroline. Big on bluster he may be but not so big on brains," the Kid said, quietly. He looked thoughtful.

"I would watch him. He sails pretty close to the wind sometimes. If you catch my drift," Max said.

The Kid nodded. "Thanks for the warning." He looked at Caroline. "We'll have to find a way to deal with Uncle Robert."

"Now that we know his intentions, I shall take legal advice in the morning." She looked at her friends. "I'm sorry this has spoilt our evening. Shall we continue? I believe we were discussing whether to play a hand or two of whist?"

ASASJASJASJ

The Kid curled on this side, facing out. Sleep had eluded him for hours, not helped by the tossing and turning of his bed companion. Finally, he'd had enough.

"I know ya're awake," he said, into the dark.

Caroline was laying on her back and she sighed. She thought she was being careful not to wake him.

"How do you know?"

The Kid gave a short chuckle. "'Cos ya talking to me." He turned over. "What's keeping ya awake?"

"I'm thinking about Uncle Robert."

The Kid grunted. "Don't. We can take care of Uncle Robert. He can't touch us y'know that."

"Not legally no but Jed … ." Caroline sighed. "Max is right. Uncle Robert isn't exactly … pure as the driven snow. He's not a crook … . It's just that … ."

"Like me y'mean?"

"No!" Caroline was adamant. She touched his arm. "No," she repeated, wanting him to understand that in her mind there was a big difference. "He associates with some … shady people. The police have spoken to him several times. Nothing has ever been proven against him but he knows … ." She sighed again. "When he pursued me … he had men with him who looked … dangerous. I suppose I'm worried that he might do something that isn't legal. Something violent. He has such a temper."

"Then we'll take precautions."

"How?"

"Lots of ways. Not going out alone. Hiring bodyguards."

"Do you really think that's necessary?"

The Kid sighed. "Caroline." He chose his words carefully. He didn't want to scare her but he was fast coming to the conclusion that Caroline made her own mind up. "No I don't but … ." He couldn't see her clearly in the dim light. "I don't want anything to happen to you," he said, stroking her cheek. If that sounded too sentimental, he clarified further. "I'm kinda responsible for ya right now," he said, with a small laugh.

"It's a shame your friend Heyes isn't here. From what you tell me, I expect he could think of something that may ease the situation."

"Yeah, he probably could," the Kid sighed. He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Beside him, he felt Caroline start to say something. "Nope."

"You don't know what I was going to say."

"Yes I do. No, I'm not going to write to him and ask for his help, or even advice. I don't wanna involve him in this." The Kid put his hand behind his head. "He's got his own life."

"Yes of course," Caroline agreed, yet she waited hopefully.

"Even if we did know the criminal set up here, our amnesty says we can't associate with crooks." He paused and then turned his head towards her. "D'ya really think I'd do something illegal to get ya uncle off ya back?"

He was pleased when Caroline turned towards him and touched his cheek. "No I don't," she said, softly. When she kissed him, he was even more pleased. Uncle Robert was soon forgotten.


	7. Three Days with Kid Curry: Day One

I'm afraid I don't know much about horses so some of the narrative in this chapter is the result of extensive googl'ng.

Three Days with Kid Curry – Day One

"Have you any plans for today, Jed?" Caroline asked as she pulled on her gloves.

"No," the Kid sighed, hands in pants pockets. "Planned to help out in the garden but with the weather the way it is … ." He tossed a hand towards the window. Outside, rain was coming down like stair rods.

"Just as well. I think you've done enough," Caroline huffed.

Jed had spent two long days "helping" out in the garden that week already. Caroline wasn't amused. She had enough gardeners.

"I'm enjoying it. Learning about plants, an' companion planting. Who knew plants had friends? An' they like to be near one another. Helps 'em grow better. Not to mention bugs, some of 'em really help out in the garden." He saw her doubtful face. "I've gotta do something, Caroline. There's only so much sitting around I can take. I'm a man of action."

Caroline bit off a smirk. "Given the weather today you'll have to find something else. Explore the library. My father liked to read action books. You might find one you like."

Now it was the Kid's turn to look doubtful.

"Or there's a letter you want to write," she said, slowly.

The Kid growled. He kept saying he was going to write to Heyes and explain properly why he'd left Porterville. He was having trouble getting started.

"I'll see. When will ya be back?"

"Not until this evening, I'm afraid." She put a hand to the Kid's cheek. "Sorry Jed but I must attend this Board meeting and they do go on."

"S'okay. I know ya have things to do. I'll be alright. Enough folks here about to keep me outta mischief."

A discreet cough behind them from Johnson. "Your carriage, Madam."

"I must go." Caroline leaned up and kissed the Kid on the cheek, decorum observed. However, he had other ideas. His arm swept round her waist and his lips descended on hers. The kiss he gave her left her sagging in his arms.

He let her go abruptly. "Don't forget me y'hear," he grinned.

Caroline felt her cheeks flame and she straightened her clothing. "Really Jed." She tried for disapproval. When she saw his amused face, she couldn't manage it. An embarrassed smile danced around her lips. "I'll see you later," she said, patting his chest and turning away.

The Kid went to the outside porch and saw her off. Johnson held an umbrella and protected Caroline from the worst of the rain until she was in the carriage. When the carriage had disappeared from view, the Kid turned and came back inside the hall.

"What to do, Johnson, what to do," he muttered.

"Today's newspaper is in the study, sir," the butler offered.

"Hmmm, might as well give it a glance. Thanks."

The Kid made for the study as Johnson closed the inside door behind him, with a smile. Keeping Miss Fairfield's husband occupied was an activity that was involving the whole household. The gardeners had already taken their turn. Today was the turn of the household staff, it seemed.

Reaching the study, the Kid puffed. He really didn't want to be inside but equally he didn't want to be soaked either. Perhaps the rain would stop and he could get outside later. Maybe practice with his gun. Now there's a thought. In the meantime, Johnson was right; today's newspaper lay neatly folded on the desk.

After several minutes, he was reading items that caught his eye. He read about the exorbitant price of eggs in Washington DC, a forthcoming major billiards tournament in New York, an earthquake in Rome. All very interesting but nothing he was particularly excited about. Even an account of some desperadoes, captured after a train heist, didn't pique his interest.

With a deep sigh, he folded the paper and put it to one side. He was bored. He briefly considered cleaning his gun, an activity that in the past would have diverted him for hours. He sighed again. Just didn't seem any point right now. He suddenly realised, wearing a gun was something he wasn't missing and there was no sign of a limp!

Glancing out of the window, told him rain was still falling. Just as he was wondering what to do with himself, there was a knock on the door.

"Yeah?"

A man came in. The Kid had met him briefly. Mr Lesley the estate manager if he recalled correctly.

"Ah! I was hoping Madam was here. I'm sorry to disturb you." Mr Lesley turned to go.

"Can I help?" There was a smidge of desperation in the Kid's voice. "Mr Lesley isn't it?"

"Er yes, that's right sir."

"Mrs Curry will be out all day. Is the reason ya want to see her urgent?"

"Er … well … yes. Kinda." Mr Lesley winced at using the vernacular. He wouldn't have dreamt of doing so in Mrs Curry's presence. Yet somehow, formalities around this man seem to slip unwittingly. He was also aware of the rumours about just who the Kid was. Along with that went a certain reputation. His eyes anxiously searched for the origin of that reputation, a certain Colt .45. Finding it absent didn't seem to allay his disquiet.

"Then ya better sit down and tell me."

Mr Lesley hesitated.

"Ya want an answer don't ya? Mrs Curry isn't here. I'm sure we can work it out, between us." The Kid indicated the chair opposite. "An' ole friend of mine once told me two heads are better than one." He grinned. "So he said."

Mr Lesley hesitated again. He rarely sat in Mrs Curry's presence. Their discussions, conducted standing, were concise and brief. Mrs Curry was knowledgeable but business like. Chitchat was unheard of. When the Kid was insistent, Mr Lesley had little choice but to sit.

"So what's the problem?"

"One of the tenant farmers, sir."

The Kid nodded. "Okay, so … ?" He was aware that apart from the Home farm, directly managed by the estate, there were six other farms of varying sizes, held on long leases.

"Mrs Curry is aware of the situation … ."

"Which is?"

Lesley hesitated. "The tenant is behind with their rent."

The Kid nodded. "How long behind?"

"This is the third month that rent is unpaid. Mrs Curry asked to be kept informed. I believe she is considering eviction sir. If that is indeed her course of action, then I want to know how to proceed."

The Kid pursed his bottom lip, thoughtfully. "Is there a reason they're behind with their rent?"

"The Driscolls have been trouble since the Fairfield Estate took over the management of the tenancy sir. The previous owner had a different approach to vetting his tenants."

The Kid's face-hardened and sat forward. "That's not what I asked, Mr Lesley." His tone was deeper. "Why are they behind with their rent?"

Mr Lesley gulped. "I … ."

"Are YOU telling me ya don't know WHY?" the Kid snapped. He put his hands on the arms of the chair as if he was about to lever himself up. A look of alarm crossed Lesley's face.

"Er no … I … do know … ," he stammered.

"SO?" Sheesh, it was like pulling teeth!

Lesley closed his eyes. "They're lazy," he forced out through gritted teeth.

The Kid sat back and looked at him astonished. "That's not a reason. That's an opinion."

Mr Lesley stood up abruptly. "With all due respect sir." He spoke quickly, anxious to get away. "I should discuss the situation with Mrs Curry. She is aware of the situation. I'll come back tomorrow when Mrs Curry is available. I'm sorry to have troubled you sir."

The Kid watched Lesley walk to the door. "Mr Lesley." He hesitated and looked back. "When you see Mrs Curry tomorrow, I'll be there as well. In the meantime, I shall find out for myself why the Driscolls are behind with their rent. Mrs Curry oughta be in possession of ALL the facts don't ya think?"

The Kid's gunfighter countenance had done the trick. Lesley swallowed hard and gave a chastened nod.

After Lesley had left, the Kid gave a short smirk and then began to think about the problem. He idly played with a pencil. The more he thought the more curious and angry he became. Behind with the rent. Why? It looked like the man hadn't bothered to find out. The reason he gave was ridiculous. On the other hand, the Driscolls may be lazy, he reasoned, but not necessarily the reason they were behind with the rent. Driscoll, he mused. Irish. Risking homelessness? Given the reason most Irish came to America, he thought it unlikely. Hmmm. Wonder how long they had been in America? Perhaps he ought to find out.

He growled and glanced out of the window. Still raining. He wasn't getting wet for no one. He'd had his fair share of being soaked to the skin. It wasn't a pleasant experience. Not one he wanted to experience again if he didn't have to.

He'd made up his mind to ride out to the Driscoll farm. But where was it? He had a good grasp of the house and immediate buildings. Not to mention the gardens. The wider estate was still somewhat hazy. Scratching the side of his face, he suddenly remembered. Caroline had showed him the estate maps, not long after he arrived. They were in the library.

The Kid smiled as he stood up. He was now a man on a mission!

In the Library, he found several versions of the Estate maps. Spreading them over one of the large reading tables, he was able to compare. After careful study, he realised they showed the estate at various stages of development. He spent an hour tracing the evolution of the estate. From the earliest stages of the main house and relatively small acreage, through acquisition of further landholdings at different times, until the estate reached its current extent. The bottom of each map told the total acreage, hundreds of acres. The house and gardens alone covered several acres. The parkland, including the road from Waltham that crossed it, made up a big chunk of the whole estate. There were several other estates in the area but this was easily the biggest.

"Pfft!"

Out west of course, ranches spread for closer to a million acres but there was no comparison. Agriculture here was a mixture of arable and small-scale livestock farming, more European in design. The Kid ran a hand through his hair. Even he, a complete novice, could see that the Fairfield Estate was sizeable for this part of the world.

The Kid filed the earlier maps away, keeping out the most recent, dated January 1882. He knew that date was shortly after Charles Fairfield's death, so he surmised the executors of his will had commissioned its drawing. In addition to the land, the Kid knew the estate also held properties in the small nearby town of Waltham and a rather magnificent town house in Boston itself. Notwithstanding, major shareholdings in railroad, shipping and haulage businesses, he was beginning to understand just how wealthy his wife was. He could understand, but didn't agree, why Robert Kinsey wanted to get his hands on Caroline's affairs.

The Kid returned to the table and looked at the estate spread out in front of him. He could see the farms, each coloured a light shade, in different colours. However, only the name of the farm was marked, not the name of the tenant. He had no idea, which was the Driscoll's farm. He stepped back.

"Hmmm. Time for some coffee I think."

He crossed to the bell rope and hesitated. He still felt self-conscious about ringing. He'd much rather go and get what he wanted himself. So far, he had only ventured downstairs, or "below" stairs, as it was called, on two occasions but he hadn't explored. On his list, he thought. For now, he would pull the rope and await whoever answered.

A short while later there was a timid knock on the door and it opened. A maid bobbed in. "Sir?"

The Kid smiled. "Ah! Don't tell me … Lucy?"

"Yes sir," she bobbed again, and reddened. Miss Fairfield's husband was FAR too handsome! He knew her name, she squealed in her mind.

"Some coffee would be nice right about now, Lucy. Can you bring me some please?" The Kid found himself flushing for asking. He sure hoped he'd get used to this soon!

"Of course sir. Thank you sir." She bobbed again and turned to go.

"Oh and ask Johnson to come see me please," he called, before she fled.

It was Johnson himself, who delivered coffee some ten minutes later. The Kid was sitting, waiting.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

"Yes. Ya worked here for some time, Johnson?"

"Indeed sir. I came with Mr Fairfield when he moved out from Fairfield House sir." Johnson busied himself, laying out cup and coffee pot within the Kid's reach.

"And how long ago was that?"

Johnson looked thoughtful. "Must be … fifteen years sir."

"Uh-huh, so I guess ya know most folks on the estate?"

"Yes sir, I believe so. Either by sight or name."

"Uh-huh. Does that include the tenant farmers?"

"Yes sir."

"Have they been here long?"

Johnson nodded. "Yes sir. Most were here before Mr Fairfield acquired the estate sir."

The Kid stood and beckoned Johnson over to the laid out map. "Take a look at this Johnson. What are the names of the tenants who hold each farm?"

With a frown, Johnson joined the Kid at the table. He was curious about the questions.

"When Mr Fairfield bought the estate sir, it consisted only of the house and gardens, and Home Farm. Fairly soon after he acquired the three tenanted farms, here sir." He indicated the bigger sections of land to the south and east of the house. Russell, Campbell and Laidlaw are the tenants who were here at that time. They are still here, sir."

The Kid looked at him. "Scottish?"

"Yes sir. Mr Fairfield was of Scottish descent. I believe he was attracted to the estate because the previous owner was also from Scotland. The Highlands, if I'm not mistaken."

The Kid nodded. "When did Mr Fairfield acquire the rest of the estate?"

"About ten years ago, he bought the parkland and properties in Waltham."

"And this section?" The Kid indicated a V shaped inset of land, immediately to the north of the house and between the original farms and the parkland, almost cutting the estate in two. Anything like his daughter, Charles Fairfield would have considered it an annoying intrusion.

"Ah, yes, the Irish." The Kid flicked an irritated look Johnson's way but he failed to notice. "Those three farms became part of the estate only a short while before Mr Fairfield's demise. The tenants are Murphy, Kennedy and Driscoll." He indicated which tenant held which farm, each considerably smaller than the farms of the original estate.

"Thank you, Johnson. That's helpful."

After Johnson had left, the Kid poured himself a cup of coffee. He stood sipping it as he surveyed the map again. He now knew that Driscoll held the twenty acres of Briar farm. He glanced out of the window. He wished it would stop raining. He had things to do.

ASJASJASJASJ

An hour later, his wish came true. He was back in the study eating a sandwich, when the persistent tapping of heavy rain against the window stopped.

"Hmmm, cheering up."

He quickly finished eating and made himself ready. By then, the sun was creeping out from behind the clouds, promising to be a warm afternoon. He settled his brown floppy hat on his head and pulled on his gloves, then stepped out from the porch.

It was a quick stroll to the stables. He had a brief look round here before. As a former livery stable worker, he could appreciate the magnificence of the place versus Walt Reilly's modest business. Here there must be stabling for a least fifty horses, many with their own stalls. Several horses put their heads over their doors and watched him as he walked across the quadrangle towards what appeared to be the office. A black caught his eye and the Kid veered off, intent on saying hallo.

"Mr Curry!"

The man he knew as the Stable Master, Richard Bailey, was hurrying over. He headed the Kid off.

"What can I do for you sir?" He was slightly out of breath and flustered.

"Afternoon."

Bailey took a deep breath. Yes of course, he was forgetting his manners. "Good afternoon sir."

"Fancied a ride now the weather's cleared up. Can I take someone out?" The Kid waved a hand around. Several more horses now had their heads out, watching and he smiled. Perhaps they were queuing up to be the strange western man's mount.

"Er yes sir." Bailey hesitated. "You CAN … ride sir?" He almost blanched when the Kid looked at him in astonishment. He relaxed slightly when the Kid grinned.

"Yeah, I can ride. Born in the saddle ya might say."

"Then let me show you what we have, sir. We have a number of good riding horses." They started to walk over to the stalls. "Do you know what your plans are sir?"

"Not exactly. Jus' wanna explore the estate some. Been coped up inside all mornin'. Thought I'd get out an' about."

Bailey spend half an hour explaining the merits of several horses, none of them the black that had first drawn the Kid.

"And this one?" He peered at the name above the stable door. "Oni?"

"It's Japanese sir. It means Devil. Mr Fairfield named him."

"Hmmm." The Kid stroked the stallion's nose. After a few moments, he had decided. "Can I take Oni? He looks like he needs a ride out."

Bailey looked unsure. "Begging your pardon sir but Oni is a lively one. It sounds to me, sir that you're looking for a quiet ride. May I suggest Cream Horn instead? Study and dependable."

The Kid had nothing against Cream Horn. He was nice pale buckskin. However, he did have something against the way Bailey was trying to steer him away from the horse he wanted to ride. "Nope. Oni will do for me, Mr Bailey."

Bailey hesitated but he could see the Kid was adamant. "Very well, I'll have him saddled for you. Sam?" He motioned to the nearest stable lad. "Mr Curry would like to take out Oni. Double bridle Sam," he advised and then added ominously. "Just in case."

"Yes, Mr Bailey."

As Sam ran off to do that, Bailey turned to the Kid, who was now looking pensive. "May I offer you some refreshment while we wait? Coffee sir?"

The Kid grinned. "Don't mind if I do."

They retired to the office for the fifteen minutes it took before Sam came to tell them Oni was ready.

In the quadrangle, said horse was outside his stall. However, he wasn't looking happy. His back end was stomping around and he was fighting his tether, tossing his head and eyes rolling. Three stable lads looked on nervously.

"What's wrong with him?" the Kid asked, although he thought he knew.

Bailey winced. "Oni hasn't been the same since Mr Fairfield passed. Hasn't let anyone ride him since. It's as if he knows he's lost his master." He paused. "Miss Fairfield … I mean, Mrs Curry, is reluctant to part with him sir."

"I can understand that," the Kid acknowledged, softly. He knew how much Caroline missed her father.

"So we turn him out in the paddock now and then and look after him. Shame. He's a good horse."

"I can see that. I expect Mr Fairfield liked riding him."

"Yes he did. Do you think … I mean do you want to give him a try sir?" Bailey looked anxious, knowing that should Mr Curry be hurt riding Oni, he'd be in trouble.

"Dunno yet," the Kid said and moved forward slowly. He stopped before he was too close and started to make soothing noises. When Oni's focus was on him, the Kid moved closer until he reached his head. Talking softly he stroked the horse's neck. He could feel Oni tremble but it wasn't fear. "When was the last time, ya turned him out?"

"Couple of days ago."

"An' afore that?"

"Mmmm, last week I suspect."

"Uh-huh. Sounds like ya in prison boy, hmmm?"

The Kid spent a few more minutes stroking and talking softly to Oni. The horse quietened and visibly relaxed under his touch. As he did so, the Kid looked more closely at the saddle. He was used to livery that was more substantial; this was tiny in comparison.

"Don't suppose ya have a western saddle do ya?" he asked, casually, hoping for a yes but expecting a negative answer. He wasn't disappointed. "Well Oni looks like you and me aren't gonna get better acquainted today," he sighed. "Sam, come and take the saddle off please."

Sam looked at Bailey for confirmation, who nodded. Sam approached cautiously.

"He's alright. I got 'im," the Kid smiled reassuringly at the boy. As Sam unsaddled, the Kid looked at the bridle. This was different as well. He glanced over as Sam removed the saddle. So were the stirrups! He was in for an experience this afternoon. Perhaps it was just as well he'd already decided not to ride a nervy horse.

"Let's turn this fella out Mr Bailey. Give him a gallop around. Think that's what he wants. Been coped up too much." He tackled taking off the unfamiliar bridle himself and held it out. Bailey gestured to the stable lad to come forward and take Oni.

"Sam."

"I'll take him. You jus' led the way."

Sometime later, the Kid and Bailey leant on the rails of the paddock, watching Oni frisk about in the grass.

"You know your horses, Mr Curry."

"Had to in my line of work. He's confined too much. Got too much energy. See that he's turned out every day and he'll soon settle down."

"Enough to ride him?"

The Kid grinned. "Got to get me a proper saddle and head gear first afore I tackle him. Now about Cream Horn and this itsy bitsy gear ya want me to use 'till then …. ."

ASJASJASJASJ

Bailey explained the differences between eastern and western riding as they walked back to the stables. When Cream Horn was ready, the Kid nodded and climbed aboard. Hands, knees, feet. So much to remember. Unfamiliar horse, strange stirrups, REALLY weird saddle. It felt like he'd never ridden before.

The Kid rode at a walk from the stables. He wasn't at all sure about the saddle. He didn't feel very secure but conceded he'd PROBABLY get used to it. He would remain at a walk until he felt more comfortable. Regardless of how he felt, it was good to be on a horse again, being his own man, doing his own thing.

He rode slowly passed the main house and regarded it with interest. It was the first time he had looked at it properly. It was square in design, uniform on all sides, except for the front façade, which was the more ornate. Four fluted giant pilasters framed three bays to the centre and supported a triangular pediment. A pair of wide curved staircases led up to the first floor and a triple arched terrace. In the precise middle of the terrace was the main doorway, under a segmented pediment. The half-glazed double doors, with its oval tracery had a transom light above. Curiosity made him count the number of windows of the front, nine on the first floor, nine with alternating triangular and segmented pediments on the ground floor but only seven in the partially sunk basement. The positions of the missing two windows taken up by the staircases.

Caroline had said the mansion was of Palladian design*, popular in the previous century. The Kid had nodded but he had no idea. Whatever it meant, the house was solid and precise and unlikely to fall down while he slept. Unlike some places, he'd slept in previously, he thought.

Turning his horse from the house and away along the wide sweeping drive, he was soon out in the park. Before he'd left he made a quick sketch from the estate map of where he was going. He didn't think Caroline would approve of him folding the original and cramming it into his pocket. He consulted his sketch now. Not the first track on the left but the second. That should take him to the Driscoll's farm.

He was soon passing the first track and beginning to enjoy his ride. It felt good to be out in the fresh air. He had spent days outside with the gardeners of course but his was a little different. This was more like the old days, riding free, birds singing, slight breeze tugging at this shirtsleeves and hat brim. All that was missing was companionship, a partner riding next to him, talking his ears off. What would he give for that right now? Heyes would love this. The Kid chuckled. If he could get him out of the library!

As the Kid approached the second track, a man on horseback rode towards him from the opposite direction, from the town of Waltham. As he came closer, the Kid saw he was a rotund, middle-aged man, wearing a much too small tweed suit. A bowler perched precariously on his head.

They met at the turning.

"Afternoon," the man said and touched the brim of his bowler.

"Howdy," the Kid greeted back.

Both were surprised as they turned together. They looked at each other with unspoken questions.

"I live up the lane," the man said. The Kid detected an Irish accent.

"I've business up the lane," the Kid explained.

The lane was wide enough so they could ride side by side. They rode in silence for a while.

"You're a stranger round these parts?"

"Am right now. Settling in up at the house so hoping not to be for much longer," the Kid smiled back.

"Ah! Then if I'm not mistaken, you must be Miss Fairfield's young man."

The Kid laughed. "Yeah, ya could call me that." He held out his hand. "Hi, I'm Jed Curry."

The Kid winced internally a little when the man swept off his hat before shaking. "Thomas Murphy, sir. Pleased to meet ya."

They continued on, Murphy obviously nervous now he knew who his companion was. The Kid was uncomfortable with Murphy's deference and frantically thought of something to say that might put the man at his ease.

"Beautiful country round here," he plumped for.

"Ay," Murphy said, cautiously.

The Kid groaned inwardly. Of course it would be. This was his wife's land.

"Helps having good people to manage it."

"Ay that it does. I er farm at The Notch."

The Kid frowned. "The Notch?"

"Ay, sir. There." He pointed to the hills in the distance. There was a distinct break in the middle of the panorama. "That's The Notch, sir. I farm in the valley."

The Kid nodded. The map and reality were coalescing together.

"So this must be … Briar farm?" He indicated the land on the right of the lane they were riding. "The Driscoll family are the tenants I think?"

"Yes sir. Maureen Driscoll and her sons run it now, since her Paul passed."

The Kid pulled Cream Horn to a stop and put out his hand to touch Murphy's arm. "Wait a minute. Her husband died. Recently?"

Murphy considered. "Must be three, four months back."

A flicker of understanding crossed the Kid's face. Right about the time the rent stopped.

"I'm on m'way to visit Mrs Driscoll now."

Murphy stiffened. "Maureen don't take kindly to strangers, sir. Not since the incident."

The Kid was suspicious. "What incident?"

Murphy looked uneasy.

"Not my business sir. Pardon me but I've said too much," he said, quickly and rode on.

The Kid was equally as uneasy. He hated mysteries but he could see that Murphy wasn't about to tell him anything further.

He trotted Cream Horn to catch up. "Okay, can you tell me this? How's Mrs Driscoll doing? With the farm I mean?"

Murphy gulped. "Well sir keeping up, keeping up. Been helping out when I can but I've got me own place."

"Sure," the Kid agreed. "Have all the folks hereabouts helped out?"

"Ay, when they can. Us Irish pull together," he smiled. "'Cepting him a'course." He nodded to the house that was appearing on the left. The sign said Stonelands Farm.

"Kennedy?"

"Ay, we's don't have anything to do with him. And he don't have anything to do with us. But then he's not proper Irish." Then seeing the Kid's frown. "Cromwell's plantation."

"Huh?" The Kid's frown deepened. Unconsciously, they had both come to a halt.

"Oliver Cromwell sir. Swept through Ireland, threw most Catholic landowners out, even the smaller ones. Replaced 'em with his New Model Army veterans. That's Kennedy."

"When was this?" This part of Irish history was news to the Kid.

Murphy puffed. "Sixteen fifties"

"Over two hundred years ago?" The Kid looked incredulous.

"Ay, the Irish have long memories."

"Sheesh!" The Kid took off his hat and scratched his head. "Seems to me, Mr Murphy, this isn't Ireland. Ya came here to make a new life for yourselves. Why bring old feuds with ya?" He replaced his hat and went to cross his arms on the saddle horn. Which wasn't there! He winced in irritation.

Murphy nodded. "Ay, there's something in what ya say," he agreed, bitterly shaking his head. Then he looked up. "Your name's Curry. That's Irish."

"A lot of us about, Mr Murphy. Grampa Curry was from Londonderry."

Murphy smiled. "Ah, that's Ulster." He sighed. "Lot of conflict there too." He sighed again and nodded. "Old feuds and a new life. You're right lad, they don't go hand in hand but er … some folks don't feel that way."

The Kid looked at the farmhouse.

"Kennedy cause any problems? Apart from not getting along with his neighbours that is?"

Murphy shook his head. "No. I can't in all honesty say he does." He smacked his lips. "Come along with me, Mr Curry. I'll introduce ya to Maureen Driscoll." He looked at the Kid and grinned slowly, his eyes twinkling. "I've a feeling she will want to meet you."

"Yes, Mr Murphy, she does."

The two chatted as they rode further down the lane. Turning into Briar Farm, the Kid looked around. He noted the feel of the place, neglected. Although signs told him that it was well kept at one time, not too long ago. There didn't appear to be anyone around. The unanswered knock on the door confirmed that.

"Must be out in the fields," Murphy said.

The Kid grunted. Wasted journey. On the other hand, was it? He'd meet someone new, learned more about the politics of Fairfield's tenant farmers, learned to ride one of those little English saddles. Not exactly a wasted afternoon. As he stared at a spot on the ground, unconsciously his hands went to his hips.

Murphy looked at him. Something about his young man puzzled him. He'd heard about the sudden appearance of a husband for Miss Fairfield. What kind of a man was he, who could win over the exacting Miss Fairfield? Might be to his advantage to find out.

"Have ya had your dinner, Mr Curry?"

The Kid looked up. "Dinner?" It was far too early. Then as realisation set in he grinned. He remembered, if they sat down and weren't out in the fields, his folks always called the midday meal, dinner. As a child, supper was the evening meal. Followed by prayers and bed. The Kid smiled at the memory. Happier times.

"A sandwich 'bout two hours ago."

Murphy smiled. "Then ya must be hungry. You come along with me, Mr Curry. My Shelagh is keeping dinner for me 'till I get back. They'll be enough for two I promise ya."

The Kid hesitated.

"Maureen'll be back home in time for Dermot's return from school. That's her youngest. We'll come back later and find her home."

The Kid didn't need any further persuasion. He grinned and nodded.

ASJASJASJASJ

The Kid was bundled onto a chair at the table as if he was a long lost member of the family. Shelagh Murphy hadn't batted an eyelid when Murphy introduced the Kid as Miss Fairfield's husband. In fact, she had smiled in a way that suggested she knew something. The Kid found that slightly unsettling, soon forgotten when so many dishes appeared in front of him.

"Eat up Mr Curry," Murphy grinned, obviously pleased at the bounty his wife had provided. "Mustn't let good food go to waste now."

The Kid started to protest but recognised there was no arguing. Before he knew it, he was tucking in as heartily as his host was. He hadn't realised quite how hungry he was. Once he started, it was difficult to stop. The food was to die for. Good, honest plain home cooking and plenty of it. When he thought about it later, he could honestly say that the meal he had that day at the Murphy's was the best he'd had since his arrival in Boston. He hadn't starved in the meantime of course but his meals were much richer and had foreign names so he didn't always know WHAT he was eating.

It was with regret, but out of necessity, that eventually he had to sit back and sigh.

"I don't think I can move an inch. That was truly wonderful, Mrs Murphy."

Mrs Murphy beamed and set about clearing some of the used plates.

"Ya like ya food, Mr Curry. Like a true Irishman," Murphy grinned.

The Kid laughed. "Haven't always had a lot to eat, Mr Murphy. I guess I make up for lost time when I can."

"Ya a western man?"

"Yep, born and breed." Then seeing that he should say more added, "Kansas. My folks had a small farm 'bout the same size as this. Bit of everything. Few crops, few cows, few chickens." He smiled.

"Ah! Then ya know about farming."

The Kid sobered, quickly. "No, not exactly. I was …ten … when I … lost my folks," he frowned. He was unprepared for the wave of grief that overtook him. Even after all the time that had elapsed, he was surprised when something sparked that in him. Sitting here in this warm and bright farmhouse kitchen brought a sudden regret for things that should have been. Looking round at the décor didn't help. He remembered his ma had similar mementoes from Ireland, hanging on the walls. The cooking smells sharpened his reminisces and he had to look down to collect himself. He swallowed hard.

Murphy recognised the emotions emanating from his young guest and respected his silence.

The Kid suddenly got up. "Mrs Driscoll should be home now, Mr Murphy. We'd best go see her," he said tersely.

"Ay, we'd best had."

Murphy took a few minutes before joining the Kid outside.

"Afore we do, Mr Curry. I'd like to show ya what I'm doing here. If ya've a mind?"

The Kid smiled, weakly and pulled himself together. "No please do. I wanna know 'bout the estate. Guess I'll get round everywhere in time."

They strolled out to the farmyard and across to the cowshed. A procession of cows were slowly making their way in from the surrounding fields, marshalled by a few lads. The Kid noted the cows were black and white and noticeably bigger than the ones he was used to handling. Most didn't have horns, a fact that he was curious about.

"They don't have horns."

"They do when they're born. Most dairy farmers remove 'em when they're calves. Better for them and for us."

"So these are dairy cows?"

"Ay, seventy five Holsteins, producing the best milk, butter and cheese in Massachusetts," Murphy said, proudly. "This is the only dairy farm on the estate, 'cept for the few cows the Home Farm keeps for supplying the big house."

The Kid nodded, thoughtfully. "Is that 'cos this farm wasn't part of the Fairfield Estate until a few years ago?"

"Ay, partly. Old Huggins who owned all round here sold up just before Mr Fairfield passed on. Mr Lesley, the estate manager, likes to keep things as they were, separate. But I've been down there and … ." He broke off and winced. "Ah, Mr Curry ya a man to get me talking when I shouldn't and that's a fact."

"Mr Murphy, I'm not here to cause trouble."

"I know that," he nodded and walked a few steps to lean on the rail as the cows passed by on their way in for milking.

The Kid rubbed his cheek. The more he was learning, the more he felt there was to uncover. He leant on the rail next to Murphy and they stood in silence watching the cows forming an orderly queue to get into the barn.

"Mr Murphy, I certainly don't want to interfere but if there's a problem, I'd like to help if I can." He paused and became a little firmer. "Now what were ya gonna say?"

Murphy looked round sharply at the change of tone.

"All I was gonna say was that the dairy herd on Home Farm could be run better. Not saying it isn't run proper, just that things could be done better." He emphasised the word better

The Kid nodded. "Okay." He left it there. Murphy was obviously reluctant to say anymore. The Kid could foresee a trip to Home Farm on the horizon, in the not too distant future.

As the last of the cows disappeared, he pushed away from the rail. "What's happening over here?" He waved his hand to where building work had started.

"Expansion," Murphy puffed. "New cow shed with modern dairy. Looking to increase the herd to a hundred and twenty. Was on the way back from the Bank, seeing about the about the loan when I ran into ya."

"Ya have to finance this yourself?" the Kid, frowned. "I thought that kinda thing'd be down to the estate?"

"We're tenants, Mr Curry. Not employees."

"Still, it must be a lotta money to find when the land's not ya own? Helluva risk."

"Ay, 'tis but Miss Fairfield … as was, agreed to a reduction in rent for a short time so I could. Up to me to make a success of it."

"That's a good deal?" the Kid frowned, instantly taken back to a sheriff's office and something similar asked by Heyes about another deal. On reflection, that had been a good deal. Eventually. "For the Estate I mean?"

Murphy shrugged. "Farming is a hand to mouth business, Mr Curry. It don't matter how good a farmer ya are if the weather's against ya. It's worse if crop growing is ya business. The way Miss Fairfield figures it, the tenant gets the risk but if things work out then the Estate is more likely to get its rent 'cos there's more chance the tenant can make enough. The bad years are more easily covered by the good years d'ya see?"

"Sounds complicated to me."

"Ah but its good business sense, so it is. If it works out, for a modest outlay, I double my income. I trust my instincts, Mr Curry. I'll risk it. If it doesn't … ." He shrugged. "Well, then the bank owns a lot of cows," he grinned. "Perhaps they'll be put to work as tellers, unless they can think of an udder use for 'em huh?"

The Kid grinned slowly. "Mr Murphy I can see ya know ya cows but ya make terrible jokes."

Murphy grinned back. "Oh Mr Curry that's just my Irish lilt ya hearing so it is."

The Kid looked round at the farmyard. Judging by what he saw, Mr Murphy would succeed with his plans. He nodded. "I think ya've got something here. Good luck to you Mr Murphy."

Murphy nodded in acknowledgment. "Maureen should be home now. I'll take ya down."

ASJASJASJASJ

The comparison between the Driscoll home and the Murphy farmhouse was obvious as soon as the Kid stepped inside. Like the farmyard, neglect abounded. After he'd made the introductions, Murphy left them at the door; this was none of his business.

"Get on with ya homework, Dermott Driscoll and don't be climbing outta the winda neither," Mrs Driscoll yelled up the stairs.

"Yes Ma," floated down the begrudgingly reply.

"I'm sorry 'bout that, Mr Curry. Have a seat." She shooed a cat from a chair and hurriedly snatched up unwashed dishes from the table. She stacked them precariously on top of more in the sink. "As you can see, I'm unprepared for visitors, please excuse the mess," she gulped.

The Kid pulled out a chair and gestured at another. "Ma'am?"

With reluctance she sat.

"Thank you for seeing me so unexpected. I know ya busy," he said, after he'd taken his seat.

"Ay, well," she said, smoothing her hair back wearily. "There's a lot to do this time of year."

"Can't be easy when ya shorthanded."

"I'm getting by, Mr Curry. No need to fret." She eyed him with suspicion.

The Kid realised that he had to tread carefully. He picked his words deliberately and smiled. "I'm new round here and I'm getting to know everyone. See if there's anything I can do to help out. Y'know that kinda thing."

"Are you one of Lesley's bully boys, MR Curry?" Mrs Driscoll shot to her feet. "'Cos if ya are, I thank ya to leave this house!" She pointed at the door. "Right now."

The Kid looked at her horrified. "Bully boys?" he asked, astonished. Lesley hadn't appeared to be the sort of man who would resort to heavies. His face hardened and his voice deepened nonetheless. "Is Lesley threatening you, Mrs Driscoll?"

She turned away with a sigh. "No," she said, folding her arms. She was obviously upset. "Not yet but that'll be the next thing no doubt," she said, tossing her head, angrily. "He keeps telling me I'm behind with ma rent. I keep telling him I am not. Does he listen? Does he heck. Eviction that's what comes next, Mrs Driscoll, he says. As if I don't know that."

The Kid stood up.

"Mrs Driscoll, I promise you Lesley hasn't sent me." He paused and thought how he should handle this. Then he remembered, Murphy hadn't said who he was. "We've got off on the wrong foot, Mrs Driscoll. Mr Murphy didn't introduce me properly. I'm Jed Curry, Miss Fairfield's husband." Must be the first time he'd said that, he thought. Kinda liked how it sounded. "Caroline's away today so Lesley spoke to me instead. I thought I'd find out for myself what the situation is. Nothing more." He paused, seeing she was wavering. "In case I can help."

Mrs Driscoll looked round in surprise. "Ya Miss Fairfield's husband?"

The Kid rolled his eyes, embarrassed. "So they tell me. Please sit down, Mrs Driscoll. I'm sure we can work it out." He sat and waited.

"Can ya bring back my husband? My son?" she snapped.

"No ma'am I can't do that," he said, quietly and clasped his hands on top of the table.

Mrs Driscoll turned back and sighed deeply. "I'm sorry Mr Curry. I know ya can't do that. Nobody can." She sat heavily.

"Ya lost ya son too?" This was new.

"Yes," she confirmed and then shook her head. "Not in the same way. He didn't waste much time though. Paul was hardly cold in his grave before Ahern took off. Went to join the Army he said."

She gave a shuddering gasp. "So here I am, trying to keep the farm going, Paul's plans alive."

She shook her head. "He had such big plans for this place, Mr Curry. New life, Maureen, he'd say to me. It's ours to shape. Work hard, make a success of it, and we'll have the good life. When Higgins sold up to Mr Fairfield, Paul saw the positive. Mr Fairfield was a fair landlord, encouraged his tenants, and helped them out."

She stared at a spot on the floor. "It was all starting to work out. When Mr Fairfield died, Madam kept things as was, so Paul was pressing ahead."

Then she swallowed hard. "Until heated words in the pub shattered all our dreams. Paul couldn't a known the other fella had a knife."

She looked up. "It's not Irish, Mr Curry. Irishmen settle their differences with their fists." She nodded and wiped a tear. "Paul woulda been able to hold his own."

She fumbled for a handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. "Not that my Paul was a fighter, Mr Curry. Don't go thinking that. He was a good man, a hard worker."

"I'm not passing judgement, Mrs Driscoll." He couldn't bring himself to ask if the police had arrested the man who'd killed her husband. "So is it just you and Dermott?"

She shook her head. "No the two other boys are working all hours God sends. Dermott too in the holidays. He wants to help more. Keeps skipping school but I need him at school, Mr Curry. He's the only one of us who took to book learning. He needs to stay at school and learn things. Be someone."

The Kid nodded. "Believe me I understand the importance of schooling. Didn't get too much of it when I was young."

Mrs Driscoll smiled weakly. "You've done all right for yourself, Mr Curry."

"Ha! If only ya knew." He smiled back. "Listen, I can get Lesley off ya back. I'll talk to my wife, Mrs Driscoll. See if we can't get ya some help. If not, I'll come and do what's needed myself. The Irish help each other out and Curry IS my name." He paused. "How's that sound?"

Mrs Driscoll looked wary. "Well if ya can do that, Mr Curry, then you're a good man, so you are."

ASJASJASJASJ

Caroline arrived home and walked up the stone steps. It had been a long hard day. She wanted nothing more than a bath, dinner and an early night. As she walked up, she frowned. To one side of each step were clumps of dried and drying mud. They disappeared when she reached the terrace at the top.

"Good afternoon, Madam," Johnson greeted from the porch.

"Johnson, what on earth has happened here?" she asked, pointing at the mud.

Johnson stepped out. From the porch, he couldn't see the steps but when he did, he knew.

"Ah! I'll have the steps swept right away."

"Of course but what has happened?"

"Mr Curry rode this afternoon, Madam. Er … I understand there was an unfortunate … parting."

"A parting?" Caroline widened her eyes when she realised. "Oh! Is he hurt?"

"No Madam, I don't believe so. He's upstairs."

Caroline hurried up, into her bedroom and through the connecting door. Nobody in the bedroom so she went through into the dressing room. She caught Cowdry unawares.

"Where is Mr Curry, Cowdry?" she asked, oblivious to the fact that she had made him jump.

Cowdry swallowed. "In the bath, Madam."

Caroline knocked on the bathroom door. "Jed it's me. Johnson told me what happened. Are you hurt?" she called.

"Naw, I ain't hurt," came the resigned reply from inside. "Ya can come in y'know."

Caroline hesitated.

"Caroline ya my wife. Ya won't see anything ya ain't seen afore."

Caroline flushed and looked to see whether Cowdry had heard. He had moved into the bedroom but he'd obviously heard as he looked away quickly. Which made her flush even more. With her nose in the air, she turned the handle and went in.

The Kid was up to his neck in foamy water. He no longer smoked cigars in the tub. Nor washed his socks. Life moves on, he thought as he grinned up at her.

"Hi, I won't get up," he said, cheekily.

"No don't." Caroline rolled her eyes and moved to the chair that held a towel. She folded it carefully over the edge of the basin and sat down.

"Johnson informed me that you went riding this afternoon and that you came off the horse. Who did you ride?"

"Cream Horn."

Caroline frowned. "You shouldn't have had any problems." She seemed puzzled.

"We didn't. We were getting along real well. Coming back we'd settled into a nice steady lope." He paused. "Until there was a hedge." The Kid winced. "He turned, I didn't," he explained. "I became the world's first flying man," he joked.

Caroline looked sympathetic. "Are you sure you're not hurt?"

"No. 'Tain't the first time I've come off a horse. 'Xpect it won't be the last either." He paused and his eyes sparkled. "Broke m'fall by landing in a muddy ditch." Then added, philosophically, "Coulda been worse."

Caroline put her fingers to her lips to hide her smile.

"How was your day?" he grinned, pleased that he was amusing her. He liked to see her smile. He had quickly come to realise his wife was the epitome of formality at times. He also knew that behind the façade, lurked a fun loving, passionate woman.

"Long and tedious," she sighed. "Yet necessary. I don't want to talk about it. Tell me more about your day. Where did you ride?"

ASJASJASJASJ

"You're very quiet, Jed. Are you sure you're not hurt?" Caroline asked, after dinner.

The Kid was deep in thought, going over the events of the day and what he'd learnt from them. He looked up slowly as Caroline's question filtered through into his thoughts.

"Not hurt Caroline, pride dented is all. I'm just thinking about Mrs Driscoll," he sighed. "Poor woman. She's worrying herself to death, wondering if she's gonna lose her home any minute."

Caroline frowned. "Why do you think that?"

"She's behind with her rent and ya considering eviction."

"I am NOT!" Caroline said, in shock. "Who told you that?"

The Kid considered. "Well … Lesley said she's behind with her rent and you were gonna evict her if the rent weren't paid."

Caroline stuck a needle in her embroidery and set it aside.

"Just what did Mr Lesley tell you?" she demanded.

"That ya wanted to be kept informed and he … ah, HE believed ya were considering eviction." He nodded, accepting his mistake. "I see."

"And in the usual course of events I would be. After three months of unpaid rent, I would seek to start eviction proceedings but there are two things you should know Jed. Firstly, Mrs Driscoll is NOT behind with her rent … ."

The Kid sat forward. "She's not?"

Caroline licked her lips and swallowed her irritation at the interruption. "No she is not." She shook her head. "Not exactly."

She went to the fire and warmed her hands. The Kid watched her back. He knew the signs, seen it in Heyes many times. Something on her mind. He sat patiently and waited.

She took a deep breath. "I granted Mr Driscoll a rent reduction of twenty-five percent in order to help him pay for the improvements he had asked to do. It's common practice for landlords to do that. Keeps the tenants interested if they have something of their own invested in the business. Mr Driscoll wanted to bring some extra acres into cultivation but he needed to spend money improving the soil first. Things were going well and he intended to sow a first planting of winter barley about now. Given the circumstances, I agreed that Mrs Driscoll could continue to pay a reduced rent until the end of the year, providing the existing plans continued. I ASKED to be kept informed on their progress. Mrs Driscoll has paid what is due as we agreed."

"Then … what? Is there a misunderstanding somewhere?" The Kid was at a loss. His conversation with Mrs Driscoll seemed to confirm that she thought she was in imminent danger of losing her home.

"It would appear so." Caroline sighed and turned round. "Mr Driscoll's death was sudden and traumatic. I am rather hoping that the sons can carry on with their father's plans. In which case there will be no need for eviction. I am intending to review Mrs Driscoll's situation at the end of the year."

The Kid sat back, stunned. There HAD been a misunderstanding but it wasn't necessarily his. "The man who killed Driscoll. Was he arrested?"

Caroline shook her head. "No I'm afraid not. He is still at large. Nobody seemed to know him. There were plenty of witnesses in the pub that night who could describe him so perhaps it'll only be a matter of time."

The Kid shook his head. "I doubt it. He'll be long gone. No wonder Mrs Driscoll is suspicious of new folks. Did ya know that the eldest boy, Ahern, has left to join the army?" he asked, softly.

Caroline looked surprised. "No I didn't know that."

"Shortly after his father passed."

Caroline sighed. "Oh the poor woman. I had no idea. Then she is coping with a double loss." She turned away in despair.

"Yeah," the Kid agreed. "She's worn out." He got up and paused. He liked what he saw. His wife was encouraging to her tenant's ambitions and sympathetic to their plight. Mrs Driscoll's situation was troubling Caroline deeply. He stood behind her and put his arms round her, comforting her. She was grateful for his presence. Wanting to say something more, yet he hesitated. After all this was her affair and none of his business, even though he had made it so. "I figured er we could help her. In some way," he said, finally.

Caroline turned and looked at him sharply. "What do you have in mind?"

He shrugged. "More pairs of hands?"

"And where would I get them? As far as I'm aware none of my tenants have a surfeit of labour."

The Kid rubbed his cheek, thoughtfully. "Perhaps not permanent but how about temporary? Murphy says he does what he can. What about Kennedy? What about the other tenants?" Then inspiration struck. "Is there folks to hire in town? Mebbe find permanent hands."

"And who would pay them?"

The Kid thought for a moment. She had a point. Mrs Driscoll certainly couldn't afford to pay for help; else, she would have done so already. He shrugged. "I've got some money that's not doing anything," he offered.

"But I gave that to you. For you," Caroline protested.

"Yeah ya did but … ." He pursed his bottom lip. "I'm not doing anything with it. 'Sides ya did say it was mine to do with as I want." He looked eager.

Caroline frowned. "You would do that? For a woman you've only met once."

The Kid nodded. "She needs help and money to do it. I've got money and it's only gathering … ." Dust wasn't the word. "Interest."

Caroline looked up at him, all sorts of emotions played over her face. First, incredulous, then regret to a faint smile. She reached up and touched his cheek, fondly.

"Mr Jones," she said, softly. "You're a very nice man."

He grinned. "Yeah that's me."

Caroline nodded. "Very well if that's what you want, I shall instruct Mr Lesley tomorrow to engage some extra hands for Mrs Driscoll."

"He doesn't need to know where the money is coming from," the Kid, cautioned.

"Agreed."

"But I wanna be there when ya tell him. There's some questions I wanna ask Mr Lesley."

*I had an image in my mind of what Fairfield Place looked like. The trick was to find an actual building and describe it. So Fairfield Place is based on the rear elevation of the main building of Claremont Fan Court School.


	8. Three days with Kid Curry: Day Two

Three Days with Kid Curry – Day Two

It was a slow start for the Currys next morning and they were both late getting up. Caroline was tired from her busy day at her Board meeting and the Kid was stiffer than he expected from his … parting. It was just as well that Mr Lesley didn't come along until after lunch. They were in the drawing room when Johnson announced him.

"Please show him in, Johnson," Caroline said and got to her feet.

The Kid started to rise.

"Let me handle this Jed," Caroline said, stopping him. He looked at her. "Please."

He signalled his capitulation and returned to the armchair to watch. He crossed his legs and rubbed his chin, thoughtfully.

"Good afternoon, Madam," Lesley said, as soon as he walked through the door. Then he realised the Kid was there also and nodded politely. "Sir."

"Good afternoon Mr Lesley. I understand you spoke to Mr Curry yesterday?"

"Yes Madam I did. About … ."

"Mrs Driscoll, yes Jed told me. He rode out to see Mrs Driscoll. As he told you, he would. I did explain to you the arrangement I made with Mrs Driscoll did I not?"

"Yes Madam."

"Why are you threatening her with eviction?"

Lesley looked shocked. "I'm not!"

"Then why does she think you are?"

The Kid raised an eyebrow. That was a question he would like answering too.

"I'm sure I don't know, Madam," Lesley blustered and then before Caroline could frame her next question, went on. "I see no sign of improvements as per the agreement. In fact, the farmyard is overgrown and untidy. I see machinery laying about broken and unmaintained. And as for the inside of her house … . The whole place smacks of someone not bothering to lift a finger. As I'm sure you saw for yourself yesterday, Mr Curry!" Lesley finished in a flash of anger then took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Yep," the Kid agreed with a nod.

Caroline looked at him sharply.

"I can't disagree with ya, Mr Lesley," the Kid said, quietly. "That IS as it first appears." There was an ominous tone to his voice. "But have you spoken to Mrs Driscoll? I mean apart from tearing her off a strip for not keeping the place TIDY."

Lesley swallowed hard. He didn't like this man. Despite his relaxed appearance, Miss Fairfield's new husband was too quiet and too threatening all at the same time.

"I'm not in the habit of engaging in idle chit chat, Mr Curry. I'm a professional and I have a job to do."

"Yes ya do," the Kid agreed. "But like I said to ya yesterday, you need to be in possession of ALL the facts."

"Mr Lesley you cannot reasonably expect a woman who has just lost her husband and experienced her eldest son's inopportune departure to care about the state of her house and yard, when keeping her fields in order is her livelihood and therefore more pressing. Were you even AWARE that the eldest son had left, Mr Lesley?" Caroline said, quickly, seeing the Kid was about to get up. She wanted to stop him. An aura of tension had descended on the room and the Kid's intentions weren't clear to her. She wanted an amicable resolution under her control. The situation simply must not get out of hand.

The Kid sank back into his chair and kept silent. He made a steeple of his fingers and raised his head, interested in the answer.

Lesley shifted from one foot to the other, uncomfortably. "Yes. I had … heard … that," he stammered, eyeing the Kid warily.

"And you didn't think to tell me?" Caroline demanded.

Lesley swallowed hard. "I'm sorry Madam. It was just after the old man … I mean Mr Driscoll passed … . You had your own … difficulties. And then you were away … ."

"I returned six weeks ago. You and I have met twice since then."

"Yes Madam. It … slipped … my mind." He paused then pressed on. "Besides Madam I didn't think you needed to know about the all domestic arrangements of your tenants."

Caroline took a step forward. Lesley licked his lips, nervously. The Kid watched with raised eyebrows, interested and amused.

"Mr Lesley, of course I need to know. I want to know about ALL my tenant's situations. ESPECIALLY if they impact on their ability to meet their obligations to ME."

The Kid put a hand over his mouth to hide his smile and rolled his eyes. This was getting better and better.

"Here is what YOU are going to do." Caroline pulled back her shoulders and drew herself up. "You will visit Mr Huntley at Home Farm. You will enquire of him if he can spare two lads to help Mrs Driscoll on a temporary basis. Perhaps Albert and Young Bob. If not, then you will ride into Waltham and secure two casual labourers. The estate will pay their wages NOT Mrs Driscoll. Is that understood?"

Mr Lesley nodded. "But Madam it's a busy time … . I'm not sure … ."

"If not in Waltham, then canvass the rest of this estate. Failing that the surrounding establishments. Someone can spare two hands if you explain the situation I am sure. I want two farmhands on Briar Farm by tomorrow, Mr Lesley. By whatever means you can to secure them. In the meantime, Mr Curry and I will ride over to see Mrs Driscoll this afternoon and reassure her that she is NOT about to be evicted. YOU will report back to me here today at six o'clock precisely. Mr Curry and I have guests for dinner tonight and I wish to know that everything is resolved before they arrive."

"Yes Madam." Lesley was red faced and chastened. Miss Fairfield had never spoken to him like this before.

"Then you had best be about it Mr Lesley," Caroline said, taking his unease as hesitation.

"Yes Madam"

Lesley turned and left. Caroline watched him go and then looked across at the Kid.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Oh I'm not," a grinning Kid denied. "I was thinking that I'd rather face ten fast guns than be in Lesley's shoes jus' then."

"Don't be so ridiculous!" she snapped. "I was only doing what was necessary." She sank heavily onto the sofa.

The Kid levered himself up and went to her. He rested his hand on the arm of the sofa and leant over her.

"Yeah it was necessary and I liked the way ya handled it Mrs Curry." He kissed her gently and straightened up.

Caroline put her fingers to her lips and looked up at him confused. "Why did you do that?"

The Kid's brow wrinkled. Why DID he do that? He shrugged. "'Cos you're my wife an' I'm proud of ya," he forced out, somewhat embarrassed that he was asked for a reason for something he did on the spur of the moment.

"Well it was something that needed doing," Caroline said, lamely and brushed her skirt. She stood up suddenly. "If we're going to ride, then I should change. Are YOU ready?"

The Kid looked down at what he was wearing. Jeans, white shirt and leather waistcoat. "Pretty much. I'll come up with ya and get m'hat an' gloves."

Caroline nodded. "Very well."

They walked into the hall and up the stairs in silence. Outside their bedroom doors, they paused.

"Jed."

When the Kid looked at her, Caroline licked her lips. "I don't think it was just me that gave Mr Lesley a hard time today. He looked genuinely afraid of you. Yet there was no obvious threat that I could see. Why was that?"

The Kid shrugged. "Jus' helping out." Then he realised that answer wasn't good enough and he sighed. "In my previous line of work, ya didn't have to be aggressive to be intimidatin'. Sometimes, a few words an' how ya say 'em is enough." He shrugged again. "Worked with Lesley didn't it?" He grinned.

Caroline smiled slowly. "Yes. I don't think I've ever seen him move so fast," she laughed. "You will have to tell me your secret Jed."

"Ah well, nope can't do that." He opened his door. "Gotta keep some mysteries y'know." He grinned at her mischievously before closing the door.

ASJASJASJASJ

The Kid was waiting downstairs in hall. He frowned at the long case clock and fetched out his pocket watch. The clock was fast. Alternatively, was his watch slow?

"Hmmm."

"Problem sir?"

Johnson appeared at his shoulder and the Kid snapped the watch cover closed.

"Is this fast?" he asked, gesturing at the clock.

"Yes sir," Johnson said, with aplomb. When the Kid looked at him for an explanation, he added, "It's fast so that the sounding of the dinner gong isn't late." The Kid slid his eyes over to the gong that stood next to the clock. Johnson moved away with a faint smile on his face.

"Ah!" The Kid returned his watch to his pocket. Yes, he'd had an introduction to the bizarre and incomprehensible ritual surrounding the dinner gong on his first night. In the intervening weeks, he hadn't been able to ascertain fully how it worked. He now relied on Cowdry to keep him on the right side of the Gong.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs behind him, he spun round to see Caroline coming down. There was no reason why he should but he had expected her to be dressed in the divided skirt she had worn the night they had met. Instead, she was wearing a navy blue riding habit, with voluminous skirts, pinned up on the right side. A close fitting tailored jacket, over a white frilled blouse, completed the outfit. Her blonde hair pulled back in a chignon and encased in a net. On her head was a silky top hat of the same colour as her suit. A veil gathered over the rim for now, was there to pull down over her face when mounted. Light relief, accomplished in three ways: light grey kidskin gloves; a silver brooch in the design of a small spray of snowdrops, pinned to her left lapel, and; a silver chain attached a riding crop to her wrist.

The Kid took off his hat. He scratched his head and watched her as she cleared the stairs and walked up to him. "Sheesh!" he blew out a long low breath.

"What is the matter?" she enquired, looking up at him.

The Kid puffed. "Ya can ride in that get up?" he'd asked before his brain could tell him to stop.

"Of course," Caroline said, surprised. "Perfectly well." She gave him a haughty look and swept to the door that Johnson held open for her. "As you will now see," she added. Only Johnson saw the smug smile on her face.

The Kid groaned and slapped his hat on his head. He rolled his eyes at Johnson as he passed over the threshold.

Johnson closed the door after him and chuckled. Life at Fairfield Place had certainly livened up since Mr Curry's arrival. On reflection, he thought, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

ASJASJASJASJ

Outside horses were waiting for them, each held by a stable lad. Cream Horn was again to be the Kid's mount. Caroline's horse, Rachel, stood in front of the mounting block to one side of the left hand flight of stairs.

"Hey boy. Me again," the Kid, greeted, stroking the horse's nose and then more quietly. "Keep me on this time huh? I've gotta lady to impress." Cream Horn grunted non-committedly but the Kid took that as a yes. He mounted up, nodded his thanks to the lad and turned Cream Horn just in time to watch Caroline reach the mounting block.

The Kid was intrigued to know how this was going to happen. He'd already noted that Rachel had one of those curious side saddles. He watched as Caroline ascended the mounting block. When she reached the top, she paused to unbutton her skirts and turned round so her back was to the horse. Noticing the Kid was watching, she smiled faintly before settling herself on the saddle. There was a quick shimmy and flourish of skirts as her right leg settled in the high pommel. She arranged her skirts to keep decorum's exacting dictates. A few moments later, her left foot was in the stirrup, she'd pulled down her veil, gathered the reins and she was riding Rachel over to meet him. She had made something he'd expected to be difficult and cumbersome, look graceful and easy.

"Something wrong, Mr Jones?" she murmured as he fell in alongside her.

"No ma'am," he assured her, firmly.

As they rode at a walk across the forecourt, the Kid discreetly tried to fathom out how Caroline was staying on.

They were starting up the drive and he thought he had gotten away with it when she spoke.

"There is something. What is it please?"

There was nothing for it. "Well, I was jus' wondering which way round the glue is." He frowned at the saddle and peered behind and to the front of her.

Caroline looked astonished. That wasn't the question she was expecting. She was ready for something to do with the mechanics of the livery. "Glue?" she burst out.

"Yep," the Kid confirmed. "Is it on you or the saddle?"

He looked serious and Caroline was flabbergasted. The Kid watched her expressions changing rapidly, until in the end he put her out of her misery and grinned.

"Had ya there," he chuckled. Then a thought seem to strike him. "Perhaps it's part of ya outfit?"

"Jed I can assure there is no glue on the saddle, nor on me. And by the way, this is a perfectly respectable outfit for a woman in my position to ride in."

"Mebbe. Kinda liked ya better in that outfit ya wore the night I … ." He stopped. Had he really been about to say something so presumptuous? In any case, did he mean it? Hell, he knew he liked her but that was all it was, nothing more. There couldn't be anything more. This was a business arrangement. A highly unusual business arrangement and one that had already gone much further than the original contract had stated. But even, so there was no place for feelings. Absolutely not. "Met ya," he finished.

Caroline wondered about what he was about to say and wanted to ask. However, seeing that he had abruptly changed his mind, she thought it best not to pursue the matter.

"Well of course. I don't know why you find it so difficult to understand. I was in the West. I had no wish to look out of place. One wears what is customary for the situation one finds oneself. Of course I rode astride when I was a child so I knew how." She looked straight ahead. "For all the drama of that night, I found the short ride to your house, rather liberating."

The Kid nodded his acceptance of her explanation. They rode a short way in silence with the Kid mulling something over in his mind. Finally, he plucked up the courage to put it into words.

"Might ya see ya way clear to feeling liberated again? Y'know sometime soon? Say the next time we go riding out together?"

He looked at her in earnest. Caroline was surprised when she find herself flushing. She looked at him coyly, grateful for the veil hiding her face.

"Yes Mr Jones I might … like to feel liberated sometime in the near future," she answered, trying not to smile but feeling her colour deepen.

The Kid grinned. "Good. So do we have an understanding that I can come calling?"

"Yes, Mr Jones, we could say that."

Pleased and knowing looks were swopped.

Woah, WHAT was happening here, the Kid thought.

I don't know what happened there but I'm not averse to it, thought Caroline.

ASJASJASJASJ

"Mrs Driscoll," the Kid called in greeting and gave a wave. He went to lean on the saddle horn, which again wasn't there. He gave a growl of frustration. He was going to have do something about this soon.

He and Caroline had reached the gate to the farmyard of Briar Farm, when they saw Mrs Driscoll crossing from one of the sheds. She had a bucket in her hand and turned, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"Mr Curry, good afternoon to ya sir," she greeted cheerfully in reply.

Caroline raised an eyebrow. Her relationship with Mrs Driscoll was always cordial but never what one might call friendly. She had expected Mrs Driscoll to be her usual taciturn self. This was a different woman. She looked at the Kid. How had he managed that?

The Kid seemed unconcerned and dismounted to unfasten the gate. Mrs Driscoll held it open as he led Cream Horn through and Caroline rode in.

"Madam," Mrs Driscoll acknowledged. She didn't exactly curtsey but executed an awkward little hop as an approximation.

"Good afternoon, Mrs Driscoll. Hope you don't mind us popping over?"

"No Madam, ya always welcome," she said and turned to shut the gate.

The Kid had tied Cream Horn up outside the house and turned to look up at Caroline as she rode up beside him.

"Can ya get down from there without a … ?" He was going to say without a mounting block.

"Yes," Caroline said, firmly. "Watch and marvel." She gestured that he should hold Rachel's head, which he duly did with his left hand, the right ready to help should she need it.

Keeping her skirts together so they would preserve her modesty, Caroline lifted her right leg so it was clear of the high pommel, shifted in the saddle and freed her left foot from the stirrup. Clasping the Kid's offered hand, she slid gracefully to the ground. He looked impressed.

"It's getting back on that's more difficult," she murmured. "But I'll cross that hurdle when I get there," she added under her breath.

Caroline turned abruptly and smiled at Mrs Driscoll, who was looking from one to the other wary.

"Mrs Driscoll, I really must apologise. I'm afraid you have been the victim of a terrible misunderstanding."

"I have?" Mrs Driscoll swallowed hard.

"Yes you have. Jed tells me that you think I'm about to evict you. I can assure you that I'm not. We had an arrangement and I fully intend to stick to it. However, I understand that you are having difficulty in keeping to that arrangement on your side through no fault of your own." Caroline paused. "I wasn't aware until Jed told me yesterday that your eldest son had left. I can see how that would make things difficult for you." Caroline took a deep breath. "Therefore, I have made it quite clear to Mr Lesley that we should do all we can to assist you. I have sent him off to engage some help for you, which you can expect tomorrow."

Caroline appeared to have no doubts that Mr Lesley could secure help.

Throughout Caroline's speech, Mrs Driscoll was clearly on edge. She glanced several times at the Kid, who nodded reassuringly. She wrung her hands when Caroline had finished.

"Madam, I'm grateful that you have taken the trouble to ride over here to tell me this. In person. Both of you. However, I can't afford … ."

Caroline nodded. "Yes of course, I should explain. The estate will meet the additional expenditure, Mrs Driscoll, not you."

Mrs Driscoll looked at the Kid, who grinned broadly and nodded. The change in her was immediate.

"Oh madam, that's very generous."

"Not at all, Mrs Driscoll. I have your best interests at heart. Your husband had good plans and I would like them carried out, if it is at all possible. Nothing is to be gained for either of us, if I were to turn you out and make you and your family destitute. Given the circumstances, it is appropriate for me to help you to achieve your plans. MY best interests are served by keeping you on the estate and as productive as possible."

Mrs Driscoll looked wide-eyed.

"Then I thank you madam. I can't believe it."

"Then think no more on it, Mrs Driscoll. Help will arrive tomorrow." Caroline turned back to the horses.

"And I'll come and check that it has," the Kid added and tipped his hat.

Caroline has gathering her skirts as the Kid came to stand beside her. He pulled on his gloves and grinned.

"Now jus' how are we going to get ya back on without a mounting block?"

Caroline looked at him. "You will make a step for me. With your hands." Her gesture showed him how. "Then you will give me a boost up."

"Yes ma'am," the Kid smirked. "I can do that."

He stooped a little and laced his fingers together. Caroline took a deep breath, placed her hand around the top pommel and settled her right foot in his hand. He looked up, his hat falling over his eyes a little. He'd expected to boost her other foot.

"Are you sure 'bout this?" he queried.

"Quite sure," Caroline said.

The Kid rolled his eyes and heaved. Caroline sprung up and settled herself in the saddle. If anything, it was more effortless than when she had used the mounting block earlier.

"There I'm aboard safely. Thank you Jed."

The Kid automatically tipped his hat. He still looked doubtful that she had mounted at all. Once he was on his horse, they were off. Mrs Driscoll held the gate open. Caroline nodded as she rode out, the Kid smiled and tipped his hat.

Mrs Driscoll closed the gate, in a daze.

ASJASJASJASJ

"Hope this hasn't made things hard for ya now," the Kid said, as they rode back.

"Why should it?"

"Well, y'know with running the estate."

"Do you mean creating a precedent?"

That wasn't the word the Kid was thinking. "Yeah. A precedent." He rolled the unfamiliar word round in his mind. "I sure don't hope ya other tenants think they can … ."

"They won't Jed," Caroline said, firmly. "Mrs Driscoll's situation is hopefully unique."

The Kid twitched his nose. He wasn't so sure but then he didn't know the other tenants or their characters. He had to concede that Caroline knew more than he did. Suddenly he winced and shifted in the saddle, causing Cream Horn to raise his head and whinny in protest.

"Is anything wrong?" Caroline asked in concern.

"Naw! Jus' can't get used to this itsy bitsy saddle. I'm used to something bigger. Guess I'm not the right size or shape for comfort."

Caroline smiled. "I notice you ride a little different from me."

"Well yeah you're on … ." He tossed his hand at her saddle.

"I MEANT apart from the saddle. You hold your hands differently."

The Kid looked down. He sat further back in the saddle than Caroline did. He had both reins in one hand, longer in length and lower down his body, whereas Caroline held a rein higher in each hand and shorter in length. He tended to neck rein. Something Cream Horn was unsure of at first but was beginning to understand. Caroline pulled on each rein to steer. In addition, she had the crop extended over Rachel's right shoulder to compensate for the lack of leg on that side.

"Guess it's how we was brought up." He shrugged. "Seems to work either way."

"Yes, it would appear so. I take it you're not planning to further your flying lessons today?" she smiled, amused.

"Er no ma'am. Reckon me and ole Cream Horn have reached an understanding on that." He patted the horse's neck. Then he looked thoughtful. "How come ya have so many horses in the stables?"

"This is a big estate. Some of the horses you see work on Home Farm. My father's horses are still here, Cream Horn being one of them. I keep a selection of horses for guest use. Then there are horses for different types of carriages. Rachael is my everyday riding horse. I also have two hunters that I use when I ride to hounds, depending on the ground conditions of the day."

"Ya hunt?"

"Yes of course."

The Kid's eyes were wide. "Dressed like that?"

"Yes."

"Ya jump over hedges and fences?"

"Yes."

The Kid puffed.

"The season will start in a few weeks. You should come."

"No ma'am." The Kid shook his head.

"Why not? I'm sure with your experience you would take to it."

"Nope. I've been the fox," he told her firmly. "I know how he feels."

Caroline nodded. "Of course. I forget that you used to be an outlaw, furiously riding and pursued by the law at every turn."

The Kid frowned at her. Was she making fun of him?

"Weren't always like that ma'am. Me 'n' Heyes had some down time too y'know," he grumped.

"And what did you do in your … down time?"

Now that she had asked, the Kid didn't want to answer. He looked away and sighed. Whatever he said wouldn't put him in a good light and that suddenly seemed important to him. Best not to mention the drinking and playing poker. He definitely wouldn't mention the amount of time he'd spent with saloon girls.

"We jus' took it easy. Rested up. Ate some good meals, when we could afford it. Stocked up on supplies, took care of our horses." He shrugged. "We had to keep moving, people to see and places to go … ." He tailed off.

"Your life must have been hard."

"Yes ma'am. Glad its all over with."

"I'm glad as well."

When he looked at her sharply, she was smiling. She was sincere, he could tell. He gathered the reins in both hands in imitation of her. "Like this?"

"Yes."

The Kid growled and reverted to his previous position. "A mite uncomfortable."

"Would you like a western saddle instead?"

"Awh, there's no need to go to all that bother especially as I … ." He broke off and looked away. He didn't know how long he was going to be in Boston did he? It would be hard to put down roots only to find that he had to go. Best not get too comfortable he told himself.

"Especially as you what, Jed?"

"Reckon I can get used to this one," he said, finally and nudged Cream Horn into a trot. "Looks like rain," he called over his shoulder in justification for his increased speed. We'd best get back."

ASJASJASJASJ

As they rode up to the house, stable lads were scrambling to meet them. The Kid, once on the ground, took off his hat and scratched his head. He watched Caroline dismount with ease. She buttoned up her skirt before giving him a knowing smile.

"Shall we go in before it rains?" she suggested, casting her eye skyward as a few drops fell.

"Jus' a minute." He turned away. "Hold up," he called to the stable lad leading Rachel away. "I wanna try. Bring her back."

Caroline stood and watched. Might be worth getting a little damp to see this.

The Kid climbed to the top of the mounting block as the stable lad put Rachel in the correct position. He hesitated.

"Turn round," Caroline called.

"Turn round?"

"Yes. Then lower yourself as if you were planning to sit onto a chair. You might want to hold onto the top pommel."

The Kid rolled his eyes and did as she instructed. Rachel shifted alarmingly underneath him, unaccustomed to the heavier weight. The stable lad calmed her.

"Now raise your right leg and swing if over the top pommel."

The Kid looked at her as though she had asked him to walk on water.

"I can do it," she smiled.

He growled and swivelled, nearly lurching over the other side.

"Sheesh!" He was there, although off balance.

"Now find the stirrup."

The Kid searched with his foot, not daring to look down in case he fell. Tiny little things, he thought. In the end, the stable lad holding Cream Horn, who had stopped to watch, found and lengthened it for him.

"Thanks."

"Now get your balance and check your posture."

"Huh?"

"You must sit square, Jed. From the back, you should look no different than if you were riding astride." Caroline moved so she could see. "Sit up straight. No slouching. Your spine should be centred over Rachel's for balance. And not too far back. Find the natural point of balance. Move to your right a little. Sit up. Up a bit more. That's it."

"Sheesh!"

"Stop swearing. You're doing fine."

"I'm in contortions, that's what I am!"

"You haven't finished yet. Sit up straight, Jed."

"I'm trying. 'Taint natural to ride like this."

"You haven't gone anywhere yet."

"I know!"

"Twist your hips and shoulders so they are square." He moved a little. She sighed. "Okay that will do. Now take the reins, one in each hand."

Caroline moved so she could see side on.

"Make sure the reins are of even length. Hold your hands higher. No not that high! You're not surrendering." Caroline smirked. "Although you've had some practice at that, I understand," she added, under her breath.

Apparently, not quietly enough as the Kid gave her the look he'd previously always reserved for Heyes.

"Now don't lean forward. All that will do is throw you off balance. Lean back a little and relax."

He gave her another look.

"Ready to walk?"

He growled.

"Sit up. Tall and proud."

"Caroline!"

"Nudge Rachel with your left leg. Relax your right leg. If you're sitting SQUARE you won't fall."

Caroline nodded to the stable lad to let go of Rachel's head and stood back as they moved off slowly.

"You know how to ride. Go with the movement, Jed. That's it."

Caroline watched as the small procession made their way off the forecourt and away out of sight.

She was changed and sipping tea in the drawing room when he returned.

"How was it?" she asked, casually.

"Terrifying," he declared, slumping into a chair.

He wasn't about to admit it but he now had a newfound respect for eastern ladies' ability to ride at all on one of those things, let alone jump over hedges and streams.

ASJASJASJASJ

Caroline lay on her back, staring at the dark ceiling. Her thoughts were confused and they all seemed to stem from the man who was asleep beside her. By all accounts, he had accomplished a lot in the last two days. He had taken it upon himself to involve himself with one of her tenant's situation, riding over to find out first-hand the full extent of the problem. Yes, he had admitted to her that it was initially because he was bored and it was something to do. However, by the time he related his day to her, it was obvious he cared enough to push for a positive outcome, even volunteering to donate his own money to help. Not that she of course was going to accept it from him. The estate could afford it and if SHE had known all the details, she might have suggested the same course of action.

Somewhere along the way, he had time to settle her father's troublesome horse and suggest ways to make him more comfortable. That was something else she kept meaning to do but hadn't gotten around to. He'd implied that if he had a better saddle he might like to ride Oni. Caroline wasn't sure how she felt about that. Oni was her father's horse and no one else rode him. Except now, her father was gone and the poor horse couldn't be left unridden indefinitely. Perhaps HE was the man to ride him. She would ponder some more on that at another time.

She looked at him, turned towards her. It was too dark to make out his features clearly. Yet she knew his face was relaxed in a sound asleep and she smiled. He looked so young and boyish. What did she feel about this man? What did he feel about her? He made love to her with feeling. Could that really be just an act? If it was, he was good at it. Could he care for her? They were from different backgrounds, worlds apart. Yet she had become used to him beside her. His presence was comforting and reassuring and … she hesitated to even think it … nice. The nights they had spent apart now seemed strange. The first time she had experienced the curse since their marriage, were the only few nights they had slept apart. Since then she had remained. She had expected Jed to be horrified. Instead, he was sympathetic and understanding. He was happy for her to stay and snuggle.

She stared at the ceiling again. Mustn't get too use to him, she told herself firmly. Word had reached her that her uncle was about to initiate court proceedings. She hadn't received the official notification yet but she was assured that was on its way. Once the court case was over and of course, they would win, then Jed would be on his way back to Wyoming. Would he want to go? Did she want him to go? She knew he wasn't entirely comfortable here in Boston. She knew he missed Heyes. She could see the wistful look in his eyes when he spoke about him. Her lawyer could issue … . It was supposed to be annulment papers but now it would have to a divorce. She wrinkled her nose up. It would hurt her prospects of a future marriage of course but once she explained the reasons … .

Divorce Jed? Another husband? Could she do this with another man? Share another man's bed? Make love with another man after Jed?

She felt her eyes water at the thought.

When her father was alive, several scions of Boston Brahmin families had courted her. Charles Fairfield had watched with interest. He hadn't opposed any from pressing their suit but neither had he made any overt encouragement. He had told Caroline that her choice of husband was up to her, so he hadn't put any pressure on her either way. For which she was grateful. Two suitors had held her interest for a while, proposing marriage as if it was a fate accompli. After careful thought, to their astonishment, she had declined. Both had protested to her father. Charles had shrugged and said he would stand by his daughter's decision, even if on one occasion it had cost him a lucrative business deal.

When her father died, Caroline wondered what had made her turn down those opportunities. Now she knew. Both would have bored her to tears in no time. That was something Jed didn't.

Was it just because he was so different from men she was used to? He was the first to admit he wasn't well educated. Yet he seemed to make up for it with his plain speaking honesty and practicality. She admired that about him. He didn't beat about the bush. He told her what she needed to know, not what she wanted to hear. He was informal, yet respectful.

Could she really settle for being treated like a prized ornament, like so many of her friends? She doubted it. Her father had never treated her so. After her mother had died, when Caroline was in her early teenage years, her father had started to involve her in his affairs. He didn't have to; could have backfired spectacularly on him. When she had first taken her seat on the Board of his business, there were some raised eyebrows. Yet he kept bringing her and she kept contributing usefully to the meetings, until in the end she was accepted. With hindsight and immense gratitude, that introduction had made it easier for her to take over his business affairs after his death. Perhaps that was what he'd intended all along. She didn't know. They had never really discussed it.

That was another thing of course. Any man she married would resent her involvement in business. It wasn't done for a woman of her position to be involved in commerce. She should be content with music, needlework, childrearing, homemaking and so on and so forth. Yes, she could play the piano beautifully; her embroidery stiches were neat and uniform. She didn't need to make a home; Fairfield Place was more than adequate. As for children, well no one really knew about that until it happened.

Suddenly she pressed her hands to her belly. Was she soon to find out? Was there already a life forming inside her? As far as she could tell, Jed hadn't taken any precautions and she knew she hadn't. If she was pregnant, what did she do then? That certainly hadn't been part of the arrangement she had made with Jed. Yet neither had sleeping in the same bed most nights.

There was no clue when the court case would be but it would likely be soon. So Jed might be gone in a matter of weeks. His job finished and fulfilled.

That last thought gave her pause. What DID she feel for the man beside her? She knew she liked him. He made her laugh, sometimes unexpectedly and loudly, in the most inappropriate places but she didn't care that shocked looks came her way. Embarrassment seemed to be a thing of the past now that Jed was in her life.

Was he settling? He seemed to be. Was it fair on him if she asked him to go? Would she be able to? Did she want to? Did she HAVE to?

Perhaps he could stay on here. As her husband? If not, then in what capacity? Lover? Gentleman of the bedroom? She shook her head. No of course not. And he may not want to stay. He had a life and a partner he missed back in Wyoming. It would be selfish of her to make him stay.

Make him stay? That was an idea. How? No, no that was deceitful. Come on Caroline you're better than that. Her thoughts were in turmoil, going round and round.

She HAD liked the way he'd dealt with Mrs Driscoll's situation. She liked the way his presence had such a devastating effect on Mr Lesley. The previously confident estate manager had crumpled at her feet. She had thought for some time that Mr Lesley wasn't telling her things she needed to know. Too preoccupied with other matters to do anything about it, she had let it slide. It wasn't as though he was doing a bad job. Jed had exposed his shortcomings that's all and brought it to her attention. Perhaps here was something Jed could do while he was here.

Her mind made up, she would tell him now.

ASJASJASJASJ

The Kid woke, startled, from a deep sleep by the striking of a match. By instinct, he turned and frantically searched. When there was enough light from the lit oil lamp, he realised where he was and sighed in relief. He closed his eyes and let his heart beat settle. When he opened them again, he looked round to see why he was awake.

Caroline was watching him, curiously.

"Have you lost something?" she asked.

"No, I jus' … ." He looked back at the bedpost where this holster would have been. Even now, over a year post amnesty, the suddenness of his awakening had jolted him back to his past life. He sighed again. "Why am I awake? Is there something wrong?" He rolled onto his back and regarded his wife.

She always looked beautiful, immaculately dressed and coiffured. Yet that was her public image. He found her just as beautiful, without makeup, her hair loose, cascading over her bare shoulders, mussed from sleep and their activities earlier in the night. Never more so than now, as she held a sheet over her breasts and with the light from the oil lamp shining behind her. He felt … .

"I've been thinking … ."

The Kid groaned and sank back, hand over his eyes. "Oh, sheesh!"

Caroline looked surprised. "I do all my thinking at night. I believe I did mention this before."

"Yeah, ya did." He couldn't do anything else but agree. He sighed. "Yeah okay, what have ya been thinking 'bout?"

"I'm glad you asked," she said, and settled on her side, facing him. He turned to face her, yawned, and closed his eyes. She laughed a little. "I was thinking about Mr Lesley."

The Kid opened his eyes and looked at her in surprise. "Should I be worried?"

"No," she smiled and touched his cheek, fondly. She kissed him quickly. "No, of course not," she whispered, before pulling away in embarrassment. She seemed surprised by her own actions

"I was thinking about how Mr Lesley manages the estate. Father held him in high regard and he does run the estate well, I think. I've had no complaints so far. However, the events that have come to my attention over the last two days, have brought it home to me that Father took a much more active role in the running of the estate than I have, or can. I tend to leave the day to day running to Mr Lesley." She paused and swallowed. "I shouldn't."

"If ya not happy with Lesley, fire him."

Caroline shook her head. "There's no need for me to do that."

"But ya just said … ."

"I have you."

The Kid looked at her opened mouthed. "Me?"

"Yes, you did say you were looking for something to do." She rolled her eyes. "That you were a man of action."

"Yeah, but I dunno anything 'bout running an estate like this."

"You don't have to. Mr Lesley runs the estate. However, he's rather black and white and now I find out he's inflexible. He's not very good at managing people … but you are."

"Huh?"

"I watched you today. You put people at ease. Well apart from Mr Lesley but that's not the point. I'm sure you can work that out. What I mean is that people talk to you and open up to you. Mrs Driscoll is usually reserved and cautious when I see her. Yet she greeted you like an old friend. Even Mr Lesley told you far more than he usually does with me. I think you could make a success of working together." She paused, trying to gauge his reaction, which was impassive. "The estate needs you Jed."

The Kid was considering, drawing a circle with his finger on the sheet. He wasn't thinking about the estate. He was thinking about Caroline and his mixed feelings. How long he would stay in Boston. COULD he stay in Boston? How long did she WANT him to stay in Boston? Was she just using him while he was here?

"I dunno," he whispered, when she pressed for an answer. He slid onto his back and stared at the ceiling. "I need to think 'bout it," he mumbled.

"Well what is there to think about?" she demanded, leaning over him.

He sighed, reluctant to give her a direct answer but acutely aware she was expecting an answer. "Lots. I don't wanna start something and … ." He swallowed. "An' not be able to finish it," he tailed off and looked away.

"I see." Caroline pulled back and considered. "Is that how you conducted your gunfights?"

"Huh?" The question was so out of context and unexpected. He frowned at her. To his surprise, she was smiling at him.

"Surely they were spur of the moment decisions?"

"Yeah but this isn't exactly the same thing y'know."

"No but it does prove something to me. That you can think on your feet. And fast. Both skills that I need in an estate manager but which Mr Lesley seems to lack. I think you will complement each other and together do a good job."

The Kid looked at her for a long while and then he looked away.

"I don't know Caroline. I need to think on it more."

Caroline settled her head in her hand and waited.

"I'll give ya an answer tomorrow. Now is there anything else? 'Cos if not, would ya put that light out so I can get back to sleep?"


	9. Three days with Kid Curry: day Three

Three Days with Kid Curry – Day Three

"Oh." Caroline bit her lip as she read the official looking document in her hand.

"Something wrong?" the Kid inquired, cup raised to his lips.

Breakfast was nearly finished. As usual, the Kid had demolished everything on the buffet that Caroline didn't eat. She'd remarked previously that he didn't HAVE to eat everything that was left. His reply was that as someone had gone to the trouble of cooking, it would be wrong to see it go to waste. Caroline had reassured him that it wouldn't. She knew that any leftovers not eaten by the household staff or reutilised in the kitchen, the gardeners used for compost. Nothing went to waste at Fairfield Place. The Kid had opted to doubt her and made his own arrangements.

"I didn't want to worry you before I was sure. However, now I am. Uncle Robert has initiated proceedings against us."

"On what charges?"

She concentrated on pushing the letter back into its envelope and smoothed it flat on the table before she answered.

"Three confused array of points, only one my lawyer says might have some merit."

"Caroline," the Kid growled.

Caroline looked at him and smiled. "That you coerced me into marrying you so you can have control of my fortune."

The Kid puffed. "Well that's not true! Ole Uncle Robert can't know 'bout that nup-thingy I signed."

"No he doesn't." Caroline agreed, and gave him a look choosing not to remind him of the correct term for the "nup-thingy". "So that will be immediately thrown out."

"What are the other points?"

"The second is that no marriage involving me should take place without his permission."

"Why do you need his permission?"

"I don't," she assured him. "I was of age when my father died and there is nothing in his will, making Robert my guardian or anything like that. Father left me in control of all my affairs, without exception. Robert wasn't even mentioned in Father's will."

Caroline took a deep breath. "However, Robert seems to have come up with some obscure law that might challenge that. My lawyer doesn't think it will stand up but … well we will put it to the court won't we?" She raised a finger. "Oh and the last thing!" She was clearly indignant. "That I have taken leave of my senses and I was so easy besotted with you because of your criminal past that I begged YOU to marry ME. He thinks I need saving from myself! He wants the court to appoint him as my guardian for own protection." She snorted. "Ridiculous! If Father thought I needed a guardian, he would have appointed one in his will and it certainly wouldn't have been him! And as for being besotted with YOU … ." She looked up quickly. "Not that I don't … ."

The Kid smiled amused. He reached over and patted her hand. "Don't get all bent out of shape. I know how ya feel 'bout me."

She looked surprised. "Do you?"

The Kid frowned. Now he came to think about it, no he didn't. He frowned harder. This was touching on a subject he wished hadn't come up. Not right now anyway. On the spur of the moment. When he was unprepared. He sought for a way out and shrugged.

"I know ya haven't taken leave of your senses." He grinned slowly. "You married me didn't you? That shows GOOD sense in my opinion."

Caroline laughed gently. "You're biased but thank you." She shook her head and sighed. "We suspected this would happen and now it has."

"But Kinsey has to win right? I mean to change anything?"

"Yes."

The Kid sighed and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Well I don't think he has a good enough case. I mean we're legally married, ain't we? In er every sense of the word, right? And there are folks here who will vouch for the number of times I've …." He reddened slightly. "Been caught in ya room," he tailed off.

Caroline smiled at the memories. He was a deep sleeper and often he was still asleep when Margaret came up in the morning. It was something they had to address. The situation was getting embarrassing, for them and their staff. No doubt, they were the topic of conversation below stairs and Caroline was far from comfortable with that idea. On reflection, given the circumstances now, perhaps that wasn't a bad thing.

"I don't think he has a leg to stand on either and neither does my lawyer. But juries can be unpredictable and some can be very misogynistic."

"Miso what?"

"Disliking of women. Strong women in particular."

"Oh."

"I am running my father's affairs, Jed. Some men just don't like women in business. If there is enough of them on a jury, then there's a possibility he could win."

"His lawyer musta told him what his chances are. They seem kinda slim to me."

"I agree but I don't think winning is his only point."

"Then what is?"

"To discredit you. Make you out to be a swindler, a fraudster, a crook. If he can make the case for any of those, then the other charges start sounding believable."

The Kid growled. "Well he's right. I WAS all those things. So I think I'm already dis..cred…ited." He rolled his eyes.

"I know. Was, is the salient word, Jed." She hesitated and looked as though she didn't want to carry on. "There is a possibility that if things go against us, your amnesty could be in danger."

"No!" the Kid cried, in alarm.

"If Robert wins I've no doubt he'll petition for your amnesty to be rescinded."

"But this is Massachusetts! My amnesty is from Wyoming!"

"Jed, have you forgotten? Your amnesty papers do say convicted of any crime in any state of the Union within 5 years."

The Kid groaned and put his head in his hands. "Yeah, I guess I knew that."

"Robert has obviously looked into the terms of your amnesty and knows that. If Robert wins the case on the point that you've committed a crime, he can apply to have your amnesty rescinded because you would have been found guilty. But Jed …."

She reached across the table and laid her hand over his. "It really is a remote possibility. I'm so sorry your life has become muddled up with mine like this. If I'd known, I … ."

"It's not your fault, Caroline. I knew what I was getting myself into." He looked up and smiled. "No I didn't but either way things have worked out better than I thought."

She smiled back. "Yes they have."

The Kid sniffed considering. "My partner, Heyes. He always say ya have to look at the situation from all the angles. Max said something about Kinsey sailing pretty close to the wind. I bet you there is something we can dig up. Something that's not quite on the level. Not all above board. Y'know that kinda thing."

"Oh I'm sure there is! Father never trusted him. He only tolerated him because he was Mother's brother." She paused. "I will arrange for someone to look into his activities. Discreetly." She hesitated and smiled. "I'm sure I will really like your friend Heyes. He thinks just like me."

The Kid burst out a laugh. "I think mebbe I've just swopped one devious partner for another. Lucky ole me!" he said and rolled his eyes and levered himself up. "Well can't sit around here all day. Got me somethings to do."

Caroline watched him as he walked round the table.

"Where are you going?" she asked, although she suspected seeing his hat and gloves in his hand.

"I'm gonna go check on Mrs Driscoll. See whether that help Lesley promised has arrived."

Caroline smiled. Yes, that was what she suspected.

"Is that going to take you all morning?"

"Nope."

When she looked up, he was pulling on his gloves and frowning.

"Thought I'd stop by and see Lesley afterwards. Have a talk with him 'bout what we discussed in the middle of the night."

"Oh! You didn't seem very enamoured with the idea last night."

"That's 'cos it was the MIDDLE of the night. You may do ya best thinking at that time but that's the time I do my best sleeping." He paused. "No I done ME some thinking on it now. Seems one of the ways I can help this court case is for me to show that I'm becoming part of ya life. Working with Lesley is a start."

"Thank you Jed. Yes I'm sure it will help." She smiled pleased.

He bent and smacked a kiss on her cheek. "See ya later."

Settling his hat on his head, he made for the door and paused. He looked back.

"D'ya have any plans for after lunch?"

Caroline turned in her chair. "Nothing especially, why?"

He hesitated. "Wanna ride out? Show me the rest of the estate?"

Caroline smiled, remembering their conversation from yesterday. "Yes, that would be very nice."

He nodded and started through the door. He stopped. "Oh, will … ."

"I'll wear it!"

With a pleased grin, he was gone.

ASJASJASJASJ

On reaching Briar Farm, he was happy to find Young Bob, from Home Farm and Callum, seconded from one of the Scottish tenanted farms already hard at work. The big grin on Mrs Driscoll's face told him that all was now well in her world. He didn't linger. Best they got on with it alone.

With a tip of his hat, he rode away feeling good. Yep Heyes was right he did like helping the needy folks. Pretty darn good at it too, he chuckled to himself.

He soon sobered as he rode nearer to his next mission. Mr Lesley. How was he gonna handle that one? That may not be so easy. The man had clearly taken a dislike to him. The Kid shrugged. Best find out what sorta mood he's in first. Take it from there. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. Perhaps Caroline was right. He WAS used to thinking on his feet. Adapting his plans to the situation he found himself in HAD become second nature. Both during his outlaw years and the quest for amnesty. He just hadn't realised until now that's what it was. Hmmm, something else he was good at and he didn't even know. This retired ole gunman had hidden depths it seemed. Knowing that made him feel more optimistic that he could deal successfully with Mr Lesley.

Leaving Cream Horn to the care of a stable lad, he entered the block where the estate office was. Although physically attached to the back of the main house, it was a single storey extension and had its own entrance. The Kid didn't knock as he knew the outside door lead onto a corridor. There were three offices, one on either side of the corridor and another, Lesley's, tucked away in an alcove at the end. The office to his right was labelled Estates Maintenance, the department, which he knew, saw to the upkeep of the buildings. On the other side was the Estates Office reception, presenting a low counter for inquires. In the office behind, three women sat behind desks, two held typewriters. The Kid decided he'd best not barge in to Lesley's office but announce himself first.

So he dinged the bell on the counter. All three women looked up and stared. They knew who he was. Caroline had introduced him when she had given him a guided tour of the house and immediate buildings. All three women got up, only one, with a quick smooth down of skirts came over

"Mr Curry," she gulped.

"Hi." The Kid took off his hat and dropped it on the counter. He fluffed up his hair, unknowingly setting three female hearts a fluttering. "Come to see Mr Lesley. Is he in?" He glanced down the corridor at the closed door so didn't see the astonished looks passing between the three.

"Yes sir."

"Alone?" He didn't want to wander in if Mr Lesley was in the middle of something.

"Yes sir. I'll … ." The young woman went to raise the counter and come out.

"S'right, I can find my way," the Kid grinned. Picking up his hat, he nodded. "Much obliged ma'am."

The young woman sighed as she watched his retreating back. Then she turned to look wide-eyed back at her grinning colleagues.

Unaware of the female consternation behind him, the Kid went to the door at the end of corridor and knocked.

"Come."

Mr Lesley looked up and blanched when he saw the Kid. He had fervently hoped he wouldn't have to deal with this man any time soon. Or ever again, if he was lucky.

The atmosphere in the room subtly changed as Mr Curry walked in. A frisson of tension bubbled up, making Lesley feel uncomfortable. It wasn't a feeling he was used to. He had heard the rumours about just who Mrs Curry's husband was. That might account for the feeling. Yet, he found it hard to believe that a sensible and precise lady like Mrs Curry would even MEET an outlaw let alone MARRY one!

"Mr Curry." Lesley scraped to his feet a fraction later than he should but the Kid chose not to notice. He just grinned and shut the door.

"Morning, Mr Lesley. I come to offer you my congratulations."

"Your congratulations? I don't understand."

The Kid came to stand in front of the desk and folded his arms. His smile was friendly.

"For sorting out Mrs Driscoll. I've been out to see her this morning. Callum and Young Bob are there. Just like ya said. Mrs Driscoll has 'em hard at it."

"That's … good," Lesley said, looking warily. "You were checking up on me?"

The Kid shook his head. "Not 'specially. 'Jus' needed to know for m'own piece of mind that everything was working out okay. Mind if I sit a spell?"

The Kid backed into the comfy looking armchair in the corner. "No!" Lesley cried in horror, leaping to his feet and extending his hand.

Too late, the Kid had sat.

And sank.

He'd expected to; the chair was well used. Yet, he hadn't expected to sink as far as he did. The chair had swallowed him, the webbing underneath obviously in need of repair.

"Woah! That's a trap for the unwary."

"I'm sorry sir. I keep meaning to have that chair repaired," Lesley apologised.

The Kid had ended up with his knees level with shoulders. His feet were almost off the floor. Not a dignified way to sit but he was there now. He'd worry about getting out later. For now, he would make the best of it so he waved away Lesley's apologies.

"Need to talk to ya, Mr Lesley. If ya can spare the time?"

Lesley winced. There was something quite comical in seeing Mr Curry ensnared by the chair but determined to carry on as if nothing was amiss. He retook his own chair and indicated that the Kid should continue.

"My wife put ya in a difficult position, Mr Lesley. It wasn't easy for ya to carry out her instructions as quickly as ya did."

The Kid paused and waited for a reaction. There was nothing except a nod of acceptance.

"Which makes me wonder 'bout ya background?"

"My background?"

"Yes. Have ya always managed big estates like this?"

"No." Lesley could see that the Kid wasn't about to the leave the topic alone. Although he wondered where this was leading to, he had no choice but to answer his questions. "I'm a bookkeeper by training. I worked for Mr Fairfield in his business. He dismissed the previous Estate Manager because of a misappropriation of funds. Mr Fairfield offered me the job, to restore some order to the books."

"So ya had no real experience in estate management afore this?"

"No. Mr Fairfield expected me to handle the books and he assured me that he would do everything else required. There wasn't a hand over as such." Lesley hesitated. "Unfortunately, Mr Fairfield died shortly afterwards. Madam had a lot to cope with, without me adding to her woes. I had to do the best I could."

The Kid winced. That was bad timing. He looked around the office, noting the orderly ledgers and reference books. He had no doubts that Lesley was efficient at that part of the job.

"So I guess getting out and meeting folks don't come naturally to ya?"

"No sir. Not if I'm honest," Lesley admitted, quietly.

The Kid nodded thoughtfully and tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair.

"So if I was to help ya out with that part of the job, how would ya feel about it?" Lesley didn't answer. He didn't know how to. The Kid noticed his indecision. "I'm not trying to take anything away from ya, Mr Lesley," he said, quietly. "You've done a good job under difficult circumstances, I can see that."

Lesley didn't say anything. He laced his fingers on the desk, waiting.

"Listen." The Kid started to lever himself up, realised the struggle out of the chair would be long and distracting, before sinking back. "I've learnt over the years that folks aren't all made the same way. So it seems to me that folks should kinda play to their own strengths."

"What are you getting at Mr Curry?"

The Kid looked thoughtful. "Take my partner Heyes. He's the thinker, the one who does the detail. That's his strength. Now, you're a learn-ed man, Mr Lesley." He waved a hand around at the bookshelves. "All these books an' that. That's your strength. Seems to me that an employer should make the most of that. Don't ya think?"

Lesley looked doubtful. "I'm not sure I understand your meaning."

"I'm talking 'bout doing things that ya're good at. Not trying to make you do things that don't come natural to ya." He paused and licked his lips. "My wife has asked if I can help ya out in some way. Y'know leaving you free to concentrate on the things you are good at."

The Kid paused and decided to level with the man.

"I'm in sorta strange position here, Mr Lesley. Life here ain't what I'm used to. I like to be out an' about. In the fresh air. Riding about on horseback. I was never any good at book learning. I'm the more sociable type a fella. I like talking to folks. Ya can learn a lot about a person by what they DON'T say. Keep me alive all these years." He rolled his eyes. "Against all the odds."

Lesley sat up. Was that a reference to Mr Curry's outlaw past?

"Those are my strengths. So they tell me." He smiled. "I'm suggesting we become a team, Mr Lesley. What d'ya say?"

"A team?"

"Yeah. You do all the book learn-ed things. The accounts, legal … . Y'know that kinda thing. I'll go and do the talking to people. We can catch up once a week or so. Make sure we both know what's going on. How's that sound?"

Mr Lesley mulled it over. Mr Curry was right. He was far happier attending to the books. He was at a loss dealing with "people" problems.

"How would it work?" he asked, finally.

"Not too sure, Mr Lesley," the Kid admitted. "Guess we'll havta run with it for a while and see. I need to get round the rest of the Estate first. See what the problems are. If there are any of course." The Kid looked thoughtful. "Tell ya what, if I get round everywhere by the end of the week. I'll mull things over and talk to Caroline over the weekend. What say we meet here on Monday, 'bout this time 'n' swop notes?"

"Whatever you say."

The Kid nodded, knowing he wasn't going to get a more enthusiastic acknowledgement. "Settled then." He started to struggle up and knew he wouldn't make it without help. He looked at Lesley meaningful.

"Yes sir."

Lesley hauled the Kid to his feet.

"Man could die in that chair. If I'm gonna be spending some time here, then that chair needs sorting. I'll have a word with Johnson when I gets back. There must be ONE spare chair in that big ole house."

Lesley smiled. The first time the Kid had seen him.

"It just needs repairing."

The Kid nodded. "Have someone see to it then. I'll have one ya can borrow temporary, sent along."

"Thank you sir."

"Don't mention it, Mr Lesley. Say if we're gonna be working together, I can't keep calling ya Mr Lesley. What's ya first name?"

"It's Stephen, sir."

"Well Stephen, I'm Jed."

Mr Lesley looked doubtful. "No sir. I don't think that's appropriate."

The Kid sighed. "I suppose ya right. Don't come naturally to me but I'll get used to all this siring eventually."

ASJASJASJASJ

Caroline was in the drawing room, waiting for the Kid to come back. He was later than she expected. Frustrated she rang the bell and was surprised when Mr Whitfield, the under butler, answered.

"Has Mr Curry returned?"

"Yes Madam."

"And where is he?"

"He went up to the attics with Mr Johnson, ten minutes ago, Madam."

"The attics? Whatever for?"

"I'm sorry, Madam. That wasn't confided to me."

Caroline stood up from the sofa. "Then I shall have to go and find out."

What could Jed be doing in the attics? She knew that was where the male staff slept, with the female staff downstairs. She also knew there were several storerooms up there. She remembered exploring for hours as a child. Old furniture, old clothes, lots of old bits and bobs; a child's delight.

As Caroline reached the top of the stairs, she heard voices.

"How's that one. Johnson?"

"Not very comfortable sir."

"Naw! Neither is this one. Let's try some more."

Caroline heard movement.

"This may be the one sir."

"Good 'cos this ain't. Scoot out and let me take a looksee."

Caroline reached the door of the room, where the voices came from.

"What are you doing?" she asked, peering in.

The Kid was sitting in an armchair, Johnson standing by his side.

"Madam."

"Hi Caroline," the Kid grinned. "We're testing chairs."

"Why?"

"For sitting in."

Caroline shuddered. "Jed that really doesn't answer my question."

"Yep, Johnson, ya right, this is the one." The Kid got up. "Have it sent down to Stephen's office please."

"The one for what?" Caroline folded her arms. "And who is Stephen?"

The Kid turned her round. "Tell ya all about it on the way down. Is lunch ready? I could eat a horse."

They descended the stairs. "I thought we could ride out so I've arranged a picnic hamper," Caroline said.

The Kid nodded. "Didn't see ya were dressed for ridin'. Hope it's a big hamper."

Caroline smiled indulgently. "Of course. Now. Who is Stephen?"

The Kid looked surprised. "Mr Lesley. Didn't ya know that?"

"No I did not."

He shrugged. "If I'm gonna be working with him, then we oughta be on first name terms." He paused. "Well me at least. He's insisting on calling me Mr Curry."

"And so he should, Jed. He works for us."

The Kid growled and then he realised what she'd said. "Us?"

"Oh!" Caroline realised what she'd said as well. "Yes," she added, firmly. "You said earlier that you wanted to show you were part of my life." She didn't sound as though she had quite convinced herself yet.

The Kid nodded in acknowledge. "As a good friend of mine used to say: Good idea!"

"Heyes?"

"Nope."

When she could see he wasn't going to say anything further, she asked her other burning question.

"What was the chair about?"

"Stephen has a chair in his office. It's kinda broke so I asked if he'd get it repaired. We'd lend him one from here temporarily. That okay?" He looked at her from under his hat brim.

Caroline looked up at him with an amused look. "Yes, Mr Jones, that's perfectly fine," she whispered.

"Good," he nodded. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. They continued down the stairs hand in hand.

ASJASJASJASJ

"I went to see my lawyer this morning. He'd already come to the same conclusion we had. That Uncle Robert and his activities bore closer investigation. Patrick has engaged a detective."

They had finished eating a considerable picnic lunch. Conversation hadn't been possible during the meal. The Kid had said earlier that he was hungry. Caroline knew from experience that he liked to concentrate on just eating. Conversation was limited to uh-huh, nods and shakes of his head.

"Oh yeah? Discretely I hope." The Kid sounded doubtful.

"Naturally. A branch of detectives has recently opened a little down the street from where Patrick has his office. They have quite a few offices in the West but not so well known here. This is their first branch in one of the Eastern cities. They're called BDI." She gave a laugh. "Quite an appropriate name don't you think? For detectives? Beady Eye?"

The Kid looked at her. "BDI?" He had an ominous feeling. "What does that stand for exactly?" He sounded cautious, hoping his thoughts were unfounded.

Caroline frowned. "I think Patrick said: Bannerman Detectives Incorporated."

The Kid groaned and put his head to his forehead. Nope he was right to be concerned. "Yeah, I forget they're now Incorporated."

"You know them?"

"Yeah since they were an Agency."

"Are their detectives good?"

"Not if they're all like Harry Briscoe!"

"Patrick said they'd assigned someone called Harry Bright. He was the senior agent in the Fort Worth office previously. Do you know him?"

"Not personally."

"Then the man you mentioned. Harry Briscoe? Is it worth asking if he's available?"

"NO!" The Kid shook his head. "No way."

"But if he's a friend?"

"Oh Harry ain't a friend. Not exactly." The Kid poured wine into her glass and then into his.

"Thank you," she acknowledged and picked up her glass.

The Kid settled back against the trunk of a tree and sipped his wine thoughtfully. "Me an' Heyes met Harry not long after we'd gone straight. We inveigled ourselves onto a special train …"

"Inveigled?" Caroline laughed in surprise at his choice of words.

"Yeah!" He looked indignant. "Inveigled," he repeated firmly. "It means to wheedle."

Caroline smiled. "Very well. Inveigled it was." She raised her glass in salute.

"Anyway we … inveigled ourselves onto a special train. 'Cepting we didn't know that it was a special train until we were on it. Turned out it had been specially booked out with Bannerman detectives to catch the Devil's Hole Gang and especially Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes. Harry was the agent in charge."

"Whoops."

"Yeah whoops indeed. Me an' Heyes were now posing as a couple of Bannerman detectives called Grant and Gaines. We'd er …." The Kid looked at the sky for inspiration. "We'd er …" He cleared his throat. "Obtained their tickets by … friendly persuasion shall we say?"

"I won't ask," Caroline assured him.

The Kid nodded relieved he didn't have to go into details. "Anyway so there we were. We were in a fix right up to our necks. We couldn't go along with it. See our old friends massacred. 'Cos that's what we were taking about ma'am. Neither could we stop the thing without giving ourselves away. It was a real quandary."

"So what did you do?"

"One agent knew we weren't Grant and Gaines. He didn't tell Briscoe when we expected him to, so Heyes got to thinking something wasn't quite right. Turned out this agent was in cahoots with a woman specially brought in. She reckoned she could identify the notorious outlaw Kid Curry and that fella he associates with." He gave a wry smile and shook his head. "But we'd never seen her and that's when Heyes figgered it out. They were planning to rob the train with their own Gang. See it was supposed to happen like this. After the Devil's Hole Gang was wiped out, there was enough whiskey on board to get every last one of those Bannerman detectives rolling drunk. That's when they planned for the second Gang; their Gang to rob the train.

"When the train stopped for water, Heyes and me sneaked off and rode to try and stop Wheat and the boys. Only we couldn't make it in time. All we could do was fire our guns and hope the Gang would understand there was something wrong. As it was two members of the Gang were killed." He paused. "Then we rode back to the train. As ya can imagine Harry wasn't exactly pleased with us. That's when Heyes told him we were gonna make him a hero. When Harry asked how, we told him about the other Gang. Heyes cooked up a way to prove it to him and they worked outta way of stopping the other Gang from robbing the train.

"To cut a long story short, Heyes got the agent to confess and Harry arrested him and the woman. When their Gang attacked, all the Bannerman detectives were stone cold sober and were able to fight 'em off. He may not have captured Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes but Harry HAD foiled a robbery and made an arrest. And we did give him an … ." The Kid grinned. "Accurate description of Heyes and Curry before we left."

"So he didn't realise who you were?"

"Nope. Not at that time. He must have figgered it out later 'cos the next time we ran into him he knew who we were."

"You tell a good story, Jed. You should write these down."

The Kid shook his head. "No ma'am. I'm leavin' that to Heyes. He started writing these stories down right after we got the amnesty."

Caroline hesitated. "Have you written to him yet?" she asked, gently.

He shook his head slowly. "No," he sighed. "I sit down with that piece of paper in front of me an' my mind jus' goes blank." He toyed with his wine glass. "I'll give it a little while." Once the court case was over, he might be going back to Porterville, he thought. So writing a letter wouldn't be necessary.

Caroline saw his face darken and left it. She contended herself with packing up their picnic for a little until one of them could think of something to break the silence.

"So why were you so insistent that I wear this skirt to ride in?"

She must have jolted him out of his thoughts as he looked up quickly. He smiled slowly until it became a mischievous grin. A look she found she liked. It was something she looked forward to and positively encouraged.

He settled himself on his side and propped his head on his hand. He patted the blanket by the side of him. "If ya lie down here, I'll tell ya."

"Really Mr Jones," she chided, playfully.

"C'mon. IF ya want to know."

"Is that a dare?" she asked, swivelling round.

"Could be," he grinned, mischievously.

Caroline settled herself on her back next to him.

"Very well I'm here. And waiting."

"Yes ma'am." He put his head on the side and looked at her thoughtfully. "Well its like this. Where I come from the womenfolk don't wrap themselves in yards an' yards of material. Now I ain't saying you don't look real fetching in those dresses ya wear … ."

"Fetching?" Caroline widened her eyes. She'd had compliments that were more fulsome in the past.

"Yes ma'am," the Kid confirmed. "Now I know it's the fashion here and ya're only trying to fit in but it seems to me that folks aren't getting the real you."

"I don't follow."

The Kid felt as though he was digging himself into a hole. "I jus' figured that what ya wearing now is the real you. Y'know the you I first got to know."

Caroline smiled. "Mr Jones you really are a very sweet man."

The Kid looked embarrassed.

"So what you're saying is you prefer me to wear clothes that show off my figure?"

The Kid reddened further.

"That's not what I'm trying to say. I guess, not exactly. Not in those words, ma'am." He swallowed hard, took a deep breath and went for it. "I jus' like to see YOU, not ya fancy clothes and jewellery. Nice though they are but they do distract a fella. Why are you laughing?" He didn't know whether to be hurt or pleased.

"I'm not laughing AT you Jed. Don't think that. In a roundabout way, you've given me a very nice compliment."

"I'm not big on fancy words an' I don't always know the rules … ." Her sudden kiss, which he accepted, stopped him. The Kid was a little stunned by it. He thought he might have over stepped the mark. Encouraged, he snuggled her a little closer. "This is a nice spot ya have here."

"This is my favourite spot on the whole estate. It's the place I come to, when I want to be alone. I never bring anyone here."

"'Cept me?"

"Yes, Mr Jones, except you," she whispered.

"Then I'm honoured, ma'am," he said, softly before he lowered his head and kissed her, getting cosy.

Later, he rested his head back and played with her fingers.

In particular, with the plain gold band on the third finger of her left hand. He raised it to look at it.

"Can I get you a new ring Caroline?" he asked softly. "This was all my twelve dollars and thirteen cents would get me?"

She shook her head. "No Mr Jones. It's perfectly fine."

Why was she saying that? Because there was no point in changing it as he wouldn't be there much longer? That thought left him cold.

"Still, I can afford something …"

The kiss she gave him should have told him something. But what?

"Mr Jones you put it on my finger when we were married. Anything else just wouldn't be the same," she said, stroking his cheek and keeping her face close.

He smiled and nodded. "Okay."

"I think Mr Jones you are a romantic." She kissed him again.

"Mebbe," he agreed. He grinned and drew her to him again. "But I'm kinda choosy who I'm romantic with."

The kiss they shared then was passionate. That should have told him more but if anything it left him more confused. Something was definitely happening between them. But what? He couldn't even begin to put it into words, let alone feelings.

ASJASJASJASJ

At the end of the afternoon, they returned their horses to the stables rather than have them collected from the front of the house. Caroline sat on a hay bale and watched the Kid unsaddle and rub them down. She admired the masterful way he had with horses, telling of his experience from his previous occupation. She also admired the way his muscles flexed and strained beneath his shirt. A smile appeared on her face. Yes she was liking and enjoying her impulsive husband.

Stable lads hovered in the background, waiting to settle the horses back in their stalls. When the Kid had finished to his satisfaction, he took Caroline's hand. They walked back to the house, laughing at their day. The Kid swung the picnic basket, happily.

As they walked up the steps to the terrace, the Kid felt a change come over Caroline. Although her hand was still in his, she was becoming once more the grand lady that she was. The Kid nodded, perhaps reluctantly, perhaps with acceptance but definitely with understanding. That's who she was. Their afternoon had been a brief but delightful interlude.

He took a deep breath as they entered the hall. A maid ran to take the basket from him and he surrendered it with a nod.

"Johnson, Mr Curry and I will use the small dining room tonight. A light supper I think. In about an hour," Caroline said, as she started to climb the stairs.

"Yes madam."

The Kid watched her go.

"Shall I send Cowdry to you sir?"

The Kid jumped and looked at the butler. "Oh!" He nodded. "Yes. Please."

He started up as the stairs as Johnson made for the concealed door. The Kid stopped and looked back. "Johnson do you know what flowers are madam's favourite?"

"Yes sir. I believe she's partial to roses, sir."

The Kid grinned. "Have twelve roses sent to her tomorrow please." He turned and continued up the stairs. "Make 'em red."

"Yes sir." Johnson smiled as he watched the Kid go. At first, sceptical of the strange western man, now he could see that Miss Fairfield's husband had settled in very nicely.


	10. Giving Evidence

If what follows isn't correct, that would be because I don't know very much about court procedure, either in the UK or in US, other than what I've seen on the TV or in films.

Giving Evidence

"State your full name for the record, please."

"Jedediah Thaddeus Curry."

"Thank you. Please be seated."

The Kid took the seat on the stand. To avoid collusion, Caroline wasn't present. A number of familiar faces were in the public gallery and the press benches were packed. He allowed his eyes to scan round the courtroom to see who else he could see. They met Robert Kinsey, with a slight knowing smile on his face, sitting next to the prosecution counsel.

"Is it correct that you are also known as Kid Curry?"

"Yes. That's correct."

"And as Kid Curry you rob bank and railroads?"

"That WAS correct."

"But you no longer do that?"

"No."

"Why do you no longer do that?"

"Well." The Kid settled himself more comfortably in the chair. This was going to be a long afternoon. "About three years ago my partner, Hannibal Heyes and me decided to get out of that business. Safes were getting hard to crack. Communication was getting faster. There just wasn't any future in it for us." There were a few titters around the courtroom. "So we approached an old friend of ours who we knew could talk to the Governor …. ."

"The Governor being?"

"The Governor of Wyoming."

"Just needed to make that clear Mr Curry. Please continue."

The Kid nodded. The question had interrupted his flow and he took a moment to compose himself. "Anyway as I was saying, we asked an old friend of ours who we knew could talk to the Governor of WYOMING for us about an amnesty. An' he went off to do just that. But 'cos we had such a long record an' all, we wouldn't get our amnesty right away. The Governor of WYOMING wanted us to prove we deserved it."

"And how long did it take you prove it?"

"Two long, miserable years."

"And in the meantime you were still wanted?"

"Yes."

"I understand you were wanted dead or alive. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"That must have made things awkward for you?"

The Kid winced. Stupid question! "Yeah ya could say that."

"What did you do while you were waiting for your amnesty?"

"This and that. Doing the odd job here and there. We moved around a lot. Had to. Couldn't stay in one place 'case we were recognised."

"Did that happen?"

The Kid nodded. "Yeah."

"And what happened when it did?"

"We got outta town fast."

"And you were pursued?"

"Yeah."

"By a legally constituted posse?"

The Kid rolled his eyes. "Yeah some were posses, but I can't say if they were legally constituted or not but they came after us alright. At least with a sheriff following us we stood a chance of being able to talk our way out if we could. Or at best not being shot. Now bounty hunters were a different story. We were wanted dead or alive. Most of 'em only took notice of the first part."

"Were you or Mr Heyes ever injured during a pursuit?"

"Yeah. We both took a bullet or two. Had our horses shot out from under us a time or two as well."

"Tell the court about some of the jobs you did while waiting for amnesty."

"We did a lotta jobs." He paused. "All legal."

Sorensen smiled. "Such as, Mr Curry?"

"Cattle herding, bar keeping, gold mining. We'd do jus' bout anything so long as it was legal and not too hard on the back."

"Eventually you were able to prove to the Governor that you were serious and he did grant you amnesty?"

"Yes. A little over a year ago now."

The Kid swallowed as the lawyer shuffled his papers for a moment.

"When you met Miss Fairfield, what were you doing?"

"I was working in a livery stable."

"And you had been working there since your amnesty was granted?"

"Yes."

"And how long after your amnesty did you meet Miss Fairfield?"

The Kid considered. "Er … 'bout ten months."

"So you were working in a livery stable. Were you enjoying working there?"

"No."

"Then why didn't you leave and do something different?"

"No choice. The Governor of Wyoming had decided that news of our amnesty would just kinda leak out. Until word got round, we was still in danger of being arrested or killed. So we had to stay where we was. Where the sheriff knew us and wouldn't arrest us. And if that meant that I had to shovel sh…" He laughed at his almost slip. "Manure in the livery stable that's what I had to do."

"Isn't it true that the governor's condition that you stay in Porterville was only for six months?"

"Yes."

"So why were you still there ten months after your amnesty?"

"'Cos Heyes was courting. I wasn't going anywhere until that resolved."

"So you hadn't planned on working in the livery stable for ever?"

"No sir."

"Did you have plans to leave?"

"Yes."

"And go where?"

"I hadn't decided."

"Just you? Not your partner, Mr Heyes?"

"Just me."

"Had there been a schism between you and Mr Heyes?"

Schism?"

"A falling out?"

"No, nothing like that."

"Then why were you planning to leave and not him?"

The Kid hesitated and looked at the judge.

"Your Honour, I won't say anything that could put my partner's life at risk. He's still living in the town we was at. I don't see how that question is relevant. I've already said Heyes was courting."

"I agree. The actions of Mr Heyes are not relevant to this case. Rephrase the question please, Mr Sorenson." The judge flicked a hand at the prosecution.

"I'm trying to establish Mr Curry's motives for leaving. Why only he was leaving and not Mr Heyes is pertinent."

"Shovelling shit all day is not my idea of a career. After ten months, I wanted to stop doing it. Heyes had got hisself married and him having plans of his own, helped me decide. I hope ya can understand that." The Kid was testy.

Mr Sorenson smiled. "Yes, Mr Curry I can understand that. We've established your motive very graphically, for why you wanted to leave. Thank you."

He turned over several pages in his notes.

"So you were working in the livery stable when you met Miss Fairfield. What happened?"

"She came in to buy a horse an' gear."

"Gear?"

"Reins, saddle. Things ya need to ride a horse. Gear."

"Quite. And did you sell them to Miss Fairfield right away?"

"No, sir. She wanted to come back at midnight."

"And you didn't think that was a strange request?"

"Yes, I did think it was strange."

"Did you ask WHY Miss Fairfield wanted to come back at such an hour?"

The Kid hesitated. "Mr Sorenson, it's the West. Ya don't ask questions like that. Not if you expect to live. Folks respect others privacy."

"So you met at midnight?"

"We did."

"And what happened then?"

"I was saddling her horse when her uncle came in. He … ."

"By uncle who do you mean?"

The Kid licked his lips.

"I mean Robert Kinsey, Caroline's uncle."

Sorenson nodded. "Thank you. Please continue."

"He … Robert Kinsey … grabbed her … Caroline … by the arm and tried to force her to leave. Then afore I could stop him, he hit her."

"How did Mr Kinsey hit her?"

"He slapped her cheek."

"Was she hysterical?"

The Kid smiled and rolled his eyes. "No."

"Why do ya smile?"

"Have ya met my wife?"

"Yes. Briefly."

"She strike ya as the hysterical type?"

Mr Sorensen licked his lips, embarrassed that somehow the witness was questioning HIM all of a sudden. Glancing at the judge for help, he swallowed. There would be no help there. The judge was looking on with mild amusement.

"No she does not," Sorensen murmured, cleared his throat and looked down at his notes. Composing himself, he continued, "And you stopped Mr Kinsey from hitting Miss Fairfield again?"

"I did."

"Why? It wasn't your concern."

"No, not directly. But where I come from no man has the right to abuse a woman. He was hurting her and she didn't want to go with him. I wasn't going to stand by and let that happen."

"So how did you stop him?"

"I asked him to leave her alone."

"Did you have your gun drawn?"

The Kid swallowed. They were getting to the dicey part now. "Yes."

"Was it cocked?"

"Not initially no."

"So when did you cock it?"

The Kid hesitated. "When he called me a country bumpkin."

The court tittered.

"So he insulted you. How did you react to that?"

The Kid shrugged, nonchalantly. "I've been called worse."

"But you threatened Mr Kinsey none the less?"

The Kid hesitated. "I told him to let the lady go and that I wouldn't be telling him again."

The court murmured.

"Then what happened?"

"He let Caroline go."

"And what would have happened if he hadn't?"

The atmosphere in the courtroom was tense and still. All eyes were on the man in the witness chair.

"We'll never know," the Kid said, carefully.

"Would you have shot Mr Kinsey?"

The court murmured and the Kid hesitated. He licked his lips and moved in his chair. He

swallowed hard.

"Possibly," he admitted, begrudgingly. He looked pointedly at Kinsey and was rewarded by the sight of that man; shift uncomfortably.

"Shoot to kill him?"

"No." The Kid was firm.

"How could you be so certain? It was night-time. Livery stables are dark places at the best of times. You might have killed Mr Kinsey by accident."

The Kid looked at the lawyer hard. "No Mr Sorenson, there would have been no accident."

"Are you THAT good, Mr Curry?"

The Kid licked his lips. He was embarrassed at the question. Modestly usually won out but this time it wouldn't do. This was important that he answered truthfully about his skill. "Yes, I'm that good."

The court murmured.

Like everyone else, the judge enthralled by the conversation had let it continue but he now took advantage of the pause. "Mr Sorenson, you're speculating about something that didn't happen. Can we move on please?"

Mr Sorenson sighed and looked down at his notes. He turned the page. "Very well. So can we say Mr Curry that my client, Mr Kinsey felt threatened by your words?"

"Mr Sorenson you are leading the witness!"

"Was Robert Kinsey threatened by what you said?" Sorenson quickly rephrased.

The Kid shrugged and chose to answer the first question. "What we can say is that he did what I asked. How he felt about it I couldn't possible say!"

Mr Sorenson smiled. "Very good Mr Curry. I thought it was Mr Heyes who had the way with words."

"I picked up a few things over the years," the Kid scowled.

The court tittered and the judge had to bang his gavel.

"Get on Mr Sorenson."

"Yes sir. So Robert Kinsey left. What happened then?"

The Kid took a deep breath. "Caroline was all set to ride out of town. I persuaded her that wasn't a good idea. I suggested that she should hide somewhere in town."

"Why wasn't it a good idea for Miss Fairfield to ride out?"

"It was the middle of the night. She was a woman alone. Anything coulda happened."

"So it was your chivalry that suggested she hide in town?"

"Yes. I thought it safer. A lot safer."

"So you suggested your house? With you? Alone? That's safer?" Sorenson looked doubtful.

"Mr Sorenson, I suggested a place. I didn't say where it was. I gave her the option that's all. It was her choice to accept." The Kid frowned. He wasn't sure he liked where this was going.

"Were you attracted to her, Mr Curry?"

The Kid looked surprised at the question and it threw him for a moment. He took a moment to consider his answer. "She's a very beautiful lady," he said, quietly.

"Mr Curry that doesn't answer my question. Were you attracted to Miss Fairfield?"

The Kid bit his lip. He nodded. "Looking back on that night, I suppose I musta been."

"And if she had decided to ride out instead, would you have accompanied her?"

"You're speculating again, Mr Sorenson," the judge was firm.

"I'm trying to establish whether Mr Curry would have allowed a lady to ride out alone."

"Very well I'll allow it. Mr Curry you will answer the question."

"Yes. I would have gone with her if she'd been determined to go."

"Why? You've already said that in the West people keep their own business."

"Like I said the middle of the night is no place for a woman to be riding alone."

Mr Sorenson nodded. "So when you suggested that she hide, how did she seem?"

"Relieved."

"And when you suggested your home how did she seem then?"

"Like I said I didn't suggest my home. I just gave her directions to a place."

"And that didn't seem strange to you? That she should trust you so completely? A man she barely knew?"

The Kid smiled faintly. "Everything about that night seemed strange. To answer ya question, Mr Sorenson, Caroline had sized me up. I'd already stopped her uncle from taking her. I'd proved to her that she could trust me."

"You hid her at your house. You didn't try and take advantage of her?"

"I did not!"

"Very chivalrous of you."

"We've already established that," the Kid said, icily and court tittered.

Mr Sorenson glanced at the judge and saw there was no point in continuing to question further in that vain. He turned the page in his notes. "So what happened next?"

"I went off to work the next day as usual. Caroline stayed in the house all day. When I got back we talked about what her next move should be."

"And while you were talking she asked you to marry her?"

"Yes." The Kid licked his lips.

"By this time did you know she was a very rich woman?"

The Kid hesitated. "Yes. She had already told me."

"So what was your reaction when she asked you to marry her?"

"Surprise." The Kid rolled his eyes and the court tittered.

"Did you say yes straight away?"

"No."

"Why not? She was rich and you've already admitted being attracted to her. Why didn't you jump at the offer?"

"Because she didn't know anything about me. And I knew I wasn't the man she thought I was."

"So you told her who you are?"

"Yes."

"And what was her reaction when you told her?"

The Kid thought for a moment and then rolled his eyes. Then with a slight smile, said, "She told me that I'd cost her father an awful lot of money."

The court laughed.

"Did you tell her about the amnesty?"

"Yes I did."

"What exactly was Miss Fairfield's proposal?"

"The way she described it? A marriage of convenience. I would come and live with her here in Boston and after a while the marriage would be quietly annulled."

"And what would be the advantage for you?"

"She promised me a monthly allowance which is mine to do with as I wish. And it would get me out of the West and away from guns."

"Away from guns?"

"Yes Mr Sorenson. Kid Curry has a reputation as a fast draw." He pursed his lips and inclined his head, thoughtfully. "But there's always somebody faster and I didn't want to take the risk of running into him. Once I'd left where I was, I would have kept coming across men who wanted to put me to the test. I figured I wouldn't stay alive for very long." He sighed. "So I had a choice. Stay where I was and shovel manure or come to Boston." He grinned. "Guess which won?"

Mr Sorenson smiled and nodded in acceptance.

"So you have a marriage of convenience?"

The Kid hesitated and put his head down. He shook it and looked up, locking eyes with Kinsey. "Nope," he swallowed.

Mr Sorenson looked at the Kid in surprise. Kinsey whispered in his ear and he nodded, reassuring his client that he had this. "Are you saying the marriage was consummated?" he asked, slowly.

The Kid swallowed and loosening his collar slightly. "Yeah I guess I am."

A murmur went around the court.

Mr Sorenson took a deep breath. He'd heard the rumours about how close the Curry's relationship appeared to be but he hadn't really expected an admission. He'd asked the question to try and wrong foot the witness.

"So just to be clear your marriage is er a physical one?" he asked, slowly.

"Yes." The Kid swallowed hard. This was embarrassing.

The court gasped and talked amongst itself. The judge had to bang his gavel before Sorensen could proceed.

"At whose suggestion did it become physical?"

The Kid hesitated as he thought back to that night. "It was kinda mutual."

"Did you force yourself on her?"

The Kid shook his head. "No sir. I certainly did not."

Sorenson considered for a moment on what to say next.

"And does your marriage continue … to er … be a physical one?" He was quite red now.

"Yes Mr Sorenson it does."

The court gasped again.

"And there is no … coercion on your part?" Sorenson gulped and pulled at his collar.

"No there is not." The Kid grinned. "In any case, the key to the connecting door between our rooms is on Caroline's side. She locks it if …"

"We get the picture Mr Curry! Thank you." The judge was quite firm and gave Sorenson a hard look which said wrap it up.

Sorenson nodded. "One final question. Now that you've come to … know … your wife a little better, do you love her, Mr Curry?"

The Kid considered and frowned. He certainly wasn't expecting THAT question and it pulled him up short. "Well I don't know," he said, slowly, thinking hard. Then he had it. "We're rubbing along quite nicely together if that's any help," he offered, with a grin.

"I have no more questions. Thank you Mr Curry. Your witness, Mr Randall."

Now was the turn of the defence. The Kid was hoping for an easier ride. Both he and Caroline had gone over the approach with Mr Randall on several occasions.

It was several moments before Randall spoke.

"Mr Curry do you have your amnesty papers with you?"

The Kid frowned slightly. He'd expected Randall to focus on the marriage.

"I have a certified COPY. The original is in a safe place. A very safe place." He winced, only now realising that it was in the drawer of his nightstand. After having the copy made, he hadn't returned the original to the safe at Fairfield Place.

"Would you read Condition One of the amnesty please?"

"Okay." The Kid went for the inside pocket of his jacket. A movement caught his eye, as two members of court security moved in his direction, hands on their guns.

The Kid chuckled. "Relax fellas. I'm just going for the envelope." He pointed to the tip of the white envelope in his pocket.

The Judge motioned for the men to return to their positions, disgruntled looks on their faces. This was Kid Curry! They were only doing their job!

The Kid cleared his throat and started to read, haltingly, struggling a little over some of the unfamiliar words.

"Condition One: Should Jedediah Thaddeus Curry perpetrate a crime within five years of the date of this amnesty, then it can and will be rescinded and his entire record of criminal activities will be taken into account. The full weight of the law will be brought to bear, where appropriate. This condition applies to any State or Territory in the Union." He looked up, seeking guidance from Randall.

"Thank you, Mr Curry."

Randall turned over pages in his notes.

"Mr Curry, now that you have lived in Boston for some months, what are you doing with your time?"

The Kid grinned. "My wife is a sociable kinda gal. She has lots of friends to meet up with and I accompany her to all the social events that are arranged. When we're not doing that, I've been working on the estate."

"Doing what, Mr Curry?"

"Helping out in the garden. I'm getting good now at telling the difference between a daisy and a delphinium!" He paused for the small titter to subside and sobered. "I'm spending most of my days running the whole estate, helping out the estate manager, who needs some assistance right now."

"Do you have any experience of running a large country estate?"

The Kid pursed his lips. "Nope. Can't say that I have but I can talk to people. That's most of the job. I'm leaving all the book work to Mr Lesley, who IS employed as the Estate Manager."

"So you've becoming fully integrated into life at Fairfield Place?"

"Yeah."

"So much so that you consider it home?"

"Yeah."

"And you're happy here?"

"Yeah."

"Would you like to stay?"

"Yeah." The Kid frowned and looked suspiciously at Randall. Had he tricked him into saying that? He'd spoken without realising what he was saying. Yes, he thought I would like to stay.

Kinsey scowled.

Randall quickly wiped the small, satisfied smile from his features and looked up at the judge.

"No more questions, Your Honour."

The Kid looked at the judge.

"You may leave the witness stand now, Mr Curry."

With a nod of thanks, the Kid fled.

ASJASJASJASJ

"Miss Fairfield, what was your rationale for proposing a marriage of convenience to a man who admitted being a crook?"

Caroline levelled a stern glare at the lawyer. "It's Mrs Curry," she said, firmly and Sorenson nodded in apology.

"I did NOT propose marriage to a man who admitted being a crook," Caroline denied, firmly. "I proposed a marriage of convenience to a man who had prevented my uncle from forcing me go with him. Jed told me afterwards who he was." Caroline was determined to be precise.

"However, he DID admit to being a crook. Didn't that fact change things for you?"

"No. He was honest enough to tell me straight away. And he has an amnesty, Mr Sorenson. I've seen the papers. They're quite genuine. The Boston police have already determined that and are quite satisfied."

"Mr Curry's amnesty is not in question here, Mrs Curry," the judge confirmed. He nodded for Mr Sorenson to continue.

"Why did you choose Mr Curry?"

"I was under pressure. My uncle had pursued me across a whole continent. I thought I had finally lost him and I was on my way back to Boston. On the return journey, he caught up with me. When the train we were on, derailed in … ." Caroline was advised not to mention Porterville in order to preserve anonymity of Hannibal Heyes'. "Where it did, that was, my last chance to get away from him. I did not CHOOSE Mr Curry. I simply did not have the time to shop around."

"So Mr Curry was convenient?"

Caroline hesitated. "There was more to it than that," she said, finally.

"Oh? Please explain."

Caroline licked her lips carefully. "Mr Curry is a nice man. He's kind and considerate. The idea to seek a marriage of convenience only came to me after I had known him for a while."

"Less than a day, Mrs Curry."

Caroline swallowed. "I pride myself on being a good judge of character, Mr Sorensen."

"But he was a crook, an ex-crook. Is that why you proposed a pre-nuptial agreement?"

"I would have insisted upon it whoever he was. We just hadn't got that far before he revealed that to me."

"And what was Mr Curry's reaction when you insisted upon it?"

"He seemed relieved."

"Relieved? Why would he be relieved?"

Caroline thought for a moment and then raised her head. "It meant that he didn't have to share HIS money with ME!" Caroline spat.

"His money?"

Caroline, embarrassed by her momentary lack of composure, brought herself under control. "Yes I believe it was 12 dollars and 13 cents." Caroline rolled her eyes and shook her head.

The court laughed. His evidence given, the Kid was present. He hid his smile behind his hand. He was also a little pleased that she remembered precisely how much money he had on him.

"The agreement is signed and witnessed by a judge. Of some statute I might add." Caroline looked meaningfully at the judge in the charge, who nodded. "It's totally legal and above board."

Mr Sorenson smacked his lips and nodded. Caroline Fairfield was proving to be a formidable opponent. He glanced at the judge, who nodded his agreement.

"It started out as a marriage of convenience but as we've heard from Mr Curry it is now something else. Whose idea was it to consummate the marriage?"

"Mine."

The court gasped and Mr Sorenson looked stunned for a moment. Even the Kid blinked at such a firm admission and he'd been there!

"So Mr Curry didn't force you?"

"He did not."

"So you just asked him straight out? To consummate your marriage?" Mr Sorenson pulled at his shirt collar that had suddenly become too tight.

"Yes. We WERE married, Mr Sorenson. Do you consider it UNUSUAL to consummate a marriage on the wedding night?"

Mr Sorenson cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Well no but er the bride doesn't usually … have to ask!" He looked a little green.

"No, I suppose not." Caroline admitted, trying not to smile. She had succeeded in scoring her point.

"When you asked Mr Curry to er…." Mr Sorenson cleared his throat again. "…. to er consummate the marriage what was his reaction?"

"He was reluctant."

Mr Sorenson looked up in surprise.

"Reluctant?"

Caroline squirmed in her seat a little. She looked everywhere but at the smiling Kid. "Yes, Mr Sorenson, reluctant."

Mr Sorenson frowned and glanced at the Kid. "Then I don't understand. Mr Curry has already admitted in court that he found you attractive. Why would he have been reluctant?"

"Oh! Has he?" Caroline risked a glance at the Kid, who was grinning broadly at her. "That's nice to know," she murmured. Then she pulled her haughty self together. "I can only presume he was reluctant because it wasn't part of our agreement. I was very clear that a physical relationship was not part of the deal."

"So what made you change your mind?"

"I was advised that the marriage would be put beyond doubt if the marriage was consummated."

"Who advised you?"

"Judge Albertson."

"The same judge who drew up the pre-nuptial agreement?"

"Yes." Caroline nodded and smoothed down her skirts, that didn't need smoothing.

"When did he advise this? Before or after the wedding?"

Caroline hesitated. "After."

"Oh, so the marriage had already gone ahead! Did he think the pre-nuptial agreement wasn't valid?"

"He was quite clear that it was, Mr Sorenson. Judge Albertson knows the kind of man Uncle Robert is. That he might seek to contest the validity of the marriage and felt that our case would be stronger if…." Caroline hesitated, licking her lips. "…if the marriage was consummated that's all."

"So you proposed consummating the marriage to Mr Curry in order to consolidate your marriage?"

"I did yes."

"But Mr Curry was reluctant. What made him change his mind?"

"I'm sure I don't know," she said, haughtily. "If you don't know, you should have asked HIM when you had the opportunity." Sorensen flushed at the lesson. "All I can say is that it was the middle of the night. I was in my nightdress and the light was behind me. I suggest you use your imagination, Mr Sorenson." She paused. "Although I rather you didn't try TOO hard."

A small titter went round the courtroom.

Mr Sorenson tugged at his shirt collar again. "Yes Ma'am I can do that." He cleared his throat. "So what is the nature of your relationship with Mr Curry now?"

Caroline looked embarrassed and licked her lips. "It's a physical one." She looked down at her skirts and brushed an imaginary piece of lint from them.

"Does he force himself on you?"

Caroline smiled. "No Mr Sorenson he does not. He has never done that. Nor is he the type of man to do so."

"Can you prove the nature of your relationship?"

"Well I'm not _enceinte _if that's what you mean?"

"_Enceinte_?"

"Yes Mr Sorenson. It's French. It means pregnant. I am not pregnant." She paused. "However, we live in a very large house with a sizeable staff. Privacy is not always what it should be. Mr Curry sleeps very soundly and he is quite often still asleep when my maid enters in the morning. On occasion she has caught us….." She waved a hand dismissively. "Surely you don't expect me to spell it out? I'm sure you understand my meaning."

"In the act?" Mr Sorenson said without thinking. The court erupted and he waved his hand. "I'll withdraw that remark, your honour. My apologies, Ma'am"

"Yes. Strike that last remark from the record," the judge ordered.

Mr Sorenson swallowed, now knowing that his case was probably lost. "One last question, Mrs Curry. Do you love your husband?"

Caroline looked surprised at the impertinence of the question. "I'm still getting to know him, Mr Sorenson. All I'm prepared to say at this time is our relationship is proving to be delightfully interesting. It'll take me some time to precisely reflect on what it means."

"Thank you, Mrs Curry. I have no further questions. Your witness, Mr Randall."

Mr Randall now stood. He smiled at Caroline.

"Mrs Curry, are you happy with your marriage?"

Caroline looked taken aback. Like the Kid, she had understood Randall would take a different approach. For a moment, she sat open mouthed. Unusually flustered, she swallowed, took a deep breath and said, "Yes I am, Mr Randall." She glanced at the Kid, who was smiling at her and she flushed. "Very happy. Thank you."

Mr Randall glanced behind to gauge the Kid's reaction.

"Do you consider your marriage to Mr Curry to be a wise decision?"

"Yes I do," Caroline said, without hesitation.

Mr Randall smiled slowly. "Thank you Mrs Curry. No further questions, your honour."

ASJASJASJASJ

Mr Sorenson rose slowly to his feet. This would be the hardest summing up of his career so far. He had to try to keep his doubts from his words. Like probably the whole of the courtroom, he was convinced that Mr and Mrs Curry had a genuine marriage. Yet he had to hold to his professionalism. Mr Kinsey was expecting nothing less. Focus on the man's criminal past, he thought. That's where the advantage may be.

"Mr Curry, by his own admission, has boasted about his pride in his criminal activities. Despite a confirmed genuine amnesty granted by the Governor of Wyoming, gentlemen of the jury, I put it to you, that a man with a long and audacious career as a crook does not change his mind overnight. Whether you chose to believe he coerced Miss Fairfield into marriage by his persuasive manner or not the fact is indisputable that he DID take advantage of the largess of a vulnerable young woman. When Miss Fairfield proposed marriage to him, despite the caveats she imposed, he saw a way to turn things to his advantage. In his own testimony, he is now in receipt of a considerable sum of money each month. I therefore commend to you gentlemen that this marriage is a sham, only concocted for monetary gain." He paused. "Prosecution rests."

He sat down hard.

"Is that it?" hissed Kinsey. Sorensen ignored him.

"The court will now hear from the defence. Mr Randall."

Randall turned to face the jury. "We have already heard during my client's testimony that seeking and trying for amnesty was hard and gruelling. Why would a man who has overcome all those trials and tribulations put his amnesty in jeopardy in this manner?" Randall paused. "Gentlemen of the jury, I put it to you that a man with that much to lose WOULDN'T put his amnesty at risk. Unless of course he knew that his marriage was genuine and without blemish." He looked back at his clients and smiled ruefully. "When Miss Fairfield, now of course Mrs Curry, offered a way out of his predicament and resolved hers, Mr Curry acted out of kindness nothing more. As we have heard, a simple business transaction has developed into a proper marriage. When I look at Mr and Mrs Curry here before us today, I see what you do. A recently newlywed happy young couple. Their vows, taken in a house of God are lawful and like any other marriage. No one has the authority to put this marriage asunder. Nor should there be any attempt. This is a genuine loving marriage, albeit contracted under unusual circumstances, nothing more. They should be allowed to continue with their marriage, free from harassment as to the validity of that marriage." He paused waiting for that to sink in. "The case for the defence rests."

ASJASJASJASJ

"Yes do come back."

"We'll see you at home."

"Yes. Thank you."

"It's a very big relief."

"Oh. Thank you so much."

"Much relieved."

"Jed and I are very happy with the outcome."

"Really? Oh you're so kind."

"Caroline? Darling? Can we go now?" The Kid said loudly so he could make himself heard over the hubbub, his hand on her elbow. His head snapped round, as a jolt on his arm from behind, almost threw him off-balance. He was just in time to see Robert Kinsey snarl passed.

Caroline tore herself away from the crowd of well-wishers from the public gallery. Having witnessed the case dismissed, they were waiting in the courtroom lobby for Caroline and the Kid to emerge.

The Kid false smiled at them and took Caroline's arm.

"I gather most of 'em are coming back. Can we just GO now? Court rooms make me nervous!" the Kid said, hurrying her to the door.

If courtrooms made him nervous, he was unprepared for the scene outside the courthouse. A huge crowd had gathered, anxious to see the society heiress and the reformed outlaw. Boston had talked about little else for days. The newspapers had written, commented and analysed their story as the case went on. The sensational outcome would be headlines tomorrow.

Caroline and the Kid stopped at the top of the courthouse steps. Unconsciously, they both sought the other's hand. Police were trying frantically to clear a path to the street and their waiting carriage.

"Oh! We've made rather a splash!" Caroline murmured.

The Kid looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "Ya think?"

"What do we do?"

The Kid was unsure. Then a voice whispered in his head. Heyes' voice? Or the Devil's? He wasn't sure. Sometimes it was hard to tell 'em apart. The Kid grinned.

"Let's give 'em what they want!"

"What …"

Before Caroline could protest, the Kid had swept her into his arms and kissed her. She stiffened at first but as his kiss deepened, she relaxed.

The crowd cheered and shouted, obviously delighted at what they were seeing. Several cameras flashed. This was the must-have photograph for tomorrow's paper.

"Mr Jones …." Caroline looked amused and embarrassed. She put a hand to her reddened cheeks but couldn't help smiling at the Kid, who was grinning at her.

The police had succeeded in clearing a path from the courthouse steps to the carriage. The Kid put an arm around Caroline's shoulders and they made their way over. Once the door shut, they sighed with relief.

"Mr Jones, you're incorrigible!" Caroline gasped, leaning against him.

"Is that a bad thing?" the Kid grinned at her.

Caroline laughed. "Not in this case!" She touched his cheek and kissed him. The Kid took her in his arms and kissed her back, as the carriage moved off.

"It's over, Caroline. We won," he said, softly, keeping his face close to hers.

"Yes we did. Thank you Jed," she smiled.

"My pleasure." He lowered his head and kissed her again, this time with a little more passion.

Caroline looked at him, frowning a little, suddenly remembering what he'd called her earlier. Was that just for show, she wondered. "Where does this leave us now?" she breathed. She wasn't sure she wanted an answer and certainly not THAT answer right now.

Perhaps thinking along similar lines, the Kid didn't want to give an answer and he smiled, faintly. "In a carriage. Going home. To celebrate with friends."

She smiled too. She was relieved even that wasn't quite what she had meant. He was right. That was a conversation for another day. Right now, was a time for celebration and kissing her husband was the perfect way to start. Her hand went round his neck and pulled him down.

ASJASJASJASJ

Twenty people came back to Fairfield Place and an impromptu party took place. There was champagne and a buffet. There was much laughter and slapping of backs, mainly the Kid's. One guest threw open the piano lid and started to play some lively tunes. Alcohol flowed late into the night, accompanying a tipsy singalong. It was well past the witching hour when Caroline and the Kid stood on the terrace waving off the last of their guests.

The Kid put an arm round her shoulders as they turned to go in. As they entered the hall the servants up late were scurrying about clearing up.

"Oh leave that for the morning. It's late now," ordered the Kid.

Everyone stared. That had never happened before and looks flicked in Caroline's direction. She smiled and nodded.

The Kid looked down at Caroline. "What?"

Caroline just smiled up at him. "It never occurred to me to send everyone to bed because it was so late."

"Jus' 'cos we stayed up late enjoyin' ourselves, don't mean that others should wait until we've finished an' then clear up. It can be done in the mornin'. We ain't getting' up THAT early are we?"

"No Mr Jones, I certainly don't intend to get up early!" She shook her head.

The Kid grinned and steered her towards the stairs. They climbed the stairs in companionable silence. When they reached their bedroom doors, the Kid turned her into his arms and looked down at her.

"Are you tired, Mrs Curry?" he asked softly.

"I probably should be. However, I think I'm still too much of a buzz to sleep just yet."

The Kid smiled. "Yeah me too." He brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek. "Say … in that case …" He kissed her gently. "Tonight … kinda feels like our wedding night don't it?"

"What do you mean?" she asked as her drew her closer.

"Well … we're free of your uncle now and … perhaps we can do a little celebrating of our own."

Caroline patted the lapels of his waistcoat. "Mr Jones …" She looked up and smiled slowly. "Try and stop me! I'll be there in ten minutes!"

The Kid laughed and let her go. "Yes ma'am. I'll be waiting!"

They both turned to go into their respective rooms.


	11. The Kid's New Life

The Kid's New Life

After the court case, the matter of whether the Kid would stay somehow never seemed to come up. Life at Fairfield Place continued as before. The Currys popularity in Boston society soared and their presence was much in demand. Neither of them wanted to mention the subject of the Kid leaving so neither of them did.

The Kid found himself busy. One morning when he came down for breakfast, he found a western saddle in his chair, a red ribbon tied round the horn.

"What's this?" he asked.

"I've decided that if you would like to, you may ride Oni. I thought a western saddle may help," Caroline said.

"Hmm." The Kid moved the saddle away so he could sit down. "Have to get him used to being rid again with a little eastern saddle first. Take it slow. Then I'll give it go with this. Thank you, Caroline." He smiled at her.

She smiled back, pleased that he was pleased, nothing further mentioned as they attended to their breakfasts.

In the following days, the Kid gradually settled Oni to riding again. He seemed to gain the frisky stallion's trust quickly. When he was sure of him, he tried the western saddle on his back. At first, Oni showed his displeasure at the unfamiliar contraption on his back, jumping and bucking around. It was sometime before the Kid felt confident enough to attempt mounting. Caroline came to watch, her heart in her mouth as he climbed aboard. As he sat waiting for Oni to settle, Caroline found her eyes water with pride. The only person able to ride Oni had been her father. Now it was her husband. Er not quite.

Oni had appeared happy standing still but when the Kid urged him into a walk, began to buck. Just manging to swing a leg clear, the Kid stumbled to the ground, grabbing the reins before the horse could take off. Caroline and a few of the stable hand started forward. The Kid stilled them with one hand while firmly pulling the swivelled eyed horse close to his face with the other.

"No!" he hissed.

Several minutes of nose stroking and soft murmuring followed before the Kid considered Oni calm enough to try again. An anxious audience watched as he climbed aboard once more.

"Okay. That's more like it."

Patting Oni's neck, the Kid urged him into a walk. This time the horse complied without fuss.

"Hey, there you go, Oni. Good boy."

The Kid rode Oni several times around the paddock before he declared that was enough. Over the next few days, he ventured out along the lanes, always keeping to a walk. However, before long he and Oni became a familiar sight, cantering across fields, leaping streams and hedges. Both seemed to blossom from their newfound freedom.

When he wasn't riding, gardening, estate management, social events filled the Kid's days. The result of the court case should have signalled an end to his "job", yet Caroline continued to give him his allowance. He was now amassing money faster than he could spend it. Despite begging Caroline to reduce or even cancel the amount, she wouldn't hear of it. He had to do something useful with his newfound affluence.

So he took over the study and studied the financial papers for good investments. He was surprised but delighted that although undertaken cautiously at first his investments were proving to be successful. He found he had a natural feel for what would take off and what wouldn't. He researched carefully, studying the company, finding out as much as he could about the business, the board and their future plans. A few businesses he visited and saw for himself their operations. He asked questions, some which surprised the owners; things that they hadn't realised themselves. He offered his advice but didn't push it. They could take it or leave it. He lost some money but only a little.

Friends started to ask for his recommendations. He was reluctant at first, equating it with gambling. His own money was one thing; someone else's was an entirely different matter. The requests kept coming until finally he gave in and offered his opinion. Delighted with the results, commissions came his way, which at first he tried to dissuade. It was at that point he thought he had better take legal advice. He didn't want to be sued if there was a disaster with the advice he had given.

Inadvertently he found he had started a business. Public liability insurance, a separate bank account and corporate identity went along with it and a name: Curry Investments. Before long, he had to find an office and take on staff. Before his first year in Boston was up, he was well on his way to making his fortune. Who'd a thought it?

Caroline introduced him to new experiences. Fine dining, the ballet, (which he didn't like) and opera. Although he didn't understand it all, he said he was prepared to give it another go. Another "go" was hastily arranged, before he could change his mind.

Waiting for the evening to arrive, found the Kid and Caroline taking the opportunity to spend some time alone together and finding companionship, in silence. It seemed a rare luxury in their hectic social calendar. The Kid was dozing on a sofa in the drawing room and Caroline was flicking through a magazine.

Caroline looked across and smiled as she contemplated her husband. She was beginning to wonder if she had fallen in love with him. He was a handsome man. That was abundantly clear from the circle of women he seemed to attract at every event they attended. He smiled easily and he had a playful sense of humour. He was the first to admit he wasn't well educated, apparent, as he often had to ask for clarification on something. However, he hid it well and bluffed his way through with practised ease in public. He was quick to learn. If he did make an inadvertent mistake, never twice and would follow her lead when meeting new people. In the beginning, she knew all the interest in him had just been curiosity. Who was the man that Caroline Fairfield, railroad heiress, one of THEM, had met and married on impulse? Yet he had won over most of her friends with his plain speaking and honesty. They now genuinely accepted him as her husband.

All in all, he was settling in well. Perhaps too well. Could she let him go when the time came?

What time? Surely, that had passed months ago. When did she mean? She shook her head. Worry about that when … if … something happened.

Having reached a conclusion she nodded. Then she started when she realised his eyes were open and looking at her.

"Penny for them," he half smiled at her.

"Oh!" She found herself flushing. "You're very quiet Mr Jones. I was wondering if anything was wrong."

"Nope." He stretched a little. "Just conservin' my strength for later. Gonna be a late night."

ASJASJASJASJ

In their box at the opera, Caroline leaned forward and looked at the Kid beside her. He had his arms folded and his head down. A gentle snore escaped. She smiled and nudged him.

He started and looked at her with a frown.

"You were snoring!" she whispered in his ear.

"Sorry," he apologised and looked down at the stage where the opera was in full swing. "I don't know the words to this one otherwise I'd be singin' along."

A laugh burst out of Caroline that she quickly covered. Their companions in the box looked at her sideways. She cleared her throat in embarrassment and glanced back at the Kid who was smiling at her mischievously. Yes, she was very pleased with her impulsive husband.

ASJASJASJASJ

Another thing the Kid struggled to get to grips with was his clothes. Society dictated that he wear appropriate clothes and never the same twice in one week. He now found he had clothes for every occasion, often several of the same thing so as not to breech the "code". He had rolled his eyes at the small room of clothes, belonging to Mr Fairfield, which he saw on his first night. Now he had one of his own. Just for him.

"Well what d'ya think?"

The Kid and Cowdry stood side by side contemplating which of the three suits, hanging over the closet door the Kid should wear to a lavish Gala that evening. When Cowdry didn't answer him, the Kid looked at him, with a sigh.

"Well?"

Cowdry winced. "It's difficult to say, sir."

"I know," the Kid agreed. "That's why I'm asking for ya opinion."

"It's not for me to say, sir."

"Yes it is. I've asked ya to say. I've given ya PERMISSION to say."

"I know sir. Thank you sir."

When nothing more was forthcoming, the Kid growled. "Cowdry, help me make the right decision, huh? Isn't that what I'm paying ya for?"

"I'm trying sir. Really I am."

The Kid took a deep breath and pursed his lips. "Trouble is they're identical."

"Not quite sir. The linings are different colours, the cloth is different, and the cut is slightly … ."

"They're all BLACK!"

"Yes sir."

More pondering.

"They're identical to the untrained eye," the Kid started slowly. His eyes slide towards Cowdry and grinned. "But we don't have an untrained eye do we?" He turned to face Cowdry. "You're trained in … ." The Kid waved his hands in frustration. "Valetry."

"Not fully sir!" Cowdry spluttered. "I'm learning on the job now sir," he added, quickly. He paused. "The correct term is valeting sir."

"Uh-huh, so consider this a test. Of ya abilities so far."

Cowdry's face looked like he'd eaten something that hadn't agreed with him.

"You've tried them all on sir," he began.

"I have," the Kid agreed with a nod.

"How did they feel sir? Which was the most comfortable?"

"Cowdry they're SUITS! They're not SUPPOSED to be comfortable!" Then inspiration seem to strike. "Say did we ever find out what happened to my old suit?"

"No sir."

"Pity, I coulda worn that," the Kid said, with a big martyred sigh.

"No sir." Cowdry shuddered, remembering the ill-fitting suit the Kid had arrived in. "You really couldn't," he added, under his breath.

"Huh?" the Kid frowned.

"It was grey sir. Tonight's event calls for black sir," Cowdry said, quickly, finishing with a beam reminiscent of one belonging to a dark haired former outlaw.

The Kid sighed, hands on hips, reminiscent of the same dark haired former outlaw.

"If it was you, which one would ya prefer to wear?"

Cowdry winced. "I'm shaped a little differently to you sir," he said, diplomatically. "It would only be a matter of opinion."

"It's ya opinion I want!"

Cowdry gulped and took a deep breath. "All of them are appropriate. They are made by the three best tailors in Boston."

"I know that," the Kid said, mustering more patience from somewhere than he ever thought possible. "Look, Caroline wants me to look my best tonight. How do I choose which one of these suits tailored by the best three tailors in Boston is the best?"

"That's a difficult one sir."

The Kid sat down and rubbed his forehead, wearily. "If I don't pick the right one, she'll know won't she?"

"I believe so sir."

The Kid groaned. He looked up suddenly. "Then maybe she can choose."

He sprung up and headed for the interconnecting door. He threw it open and marched into the other bedroom.

"Caroline!"

Cowdry heard a small scream and widened his eyes. Mr Curry was unconventional to say the least. It did make life interesting. However, he wasn't sure that Mrs Curry's ladies maid would agree right at this moment.

"Sorry Margaret. Is Caroline here?"

"Madam is in the bathroom sir," a flustered Margaret said.

Cowdry waited and winced.

"Sir! She's in the bath!" Margaret was horrified.

Cowdry waited some more.

"Jed! Get OUT!"

The Kid returned, looking slightly embarrassed. "No joy there Cowdry," he said, quickly, shutting the door. He cleared his throat. "We're on our own."

"You could toss a coin sir?" Cowdry offered.

"Naw! Need a three sided coin and not even HEYES has one of them," The Kid muttered, contemplated the problem again as if a magical insight would suddenly provide the answer. "I bet HE could decide which suit to wear."

"Perhaps you could … send an urgent telegram sir?" Cowdry said, dryly.

The Kid gave him a withering look.

"Sorry sir."

The Kid gave the problem some more thought. He was fast reaching the conclusion that finding a three-sided coin might be easier, when there was a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" he called, glad of the interruption.

Johnson came in.

"Sorry to disturb you sir. There's a gentleman to see you."

"For me?

"Yes sir. He left his card."

Johnson handed it over.

The Kid pursed his lips but gave nothing away. In reality, the caller was someone he had been trying hard to make contact with for some time. He couldn't pass up the opportunity now that it had presented itself.

"Hmmm, okay. I'll come down."

Johnson held the door and the Kid marched through, only to pause in the threshold.

"Cowdry, this may take a while. I won't have much time to change when I get back so pick a suit and put the other two back, will ya?" he said, with an amused smirk before disappearing.

Cowdry's shoulders slumped. Then he looked up in realisation; Johnson might help. He rushed to the door.

"Psst!"

Cowdry winced. Not the accepted method of catching a butler's attention. When Johnson looked round, Cowdry, hiding behind the partially closed door, furiously beckoned to him. A nervous glance at his boss' back descending the staircase, told him that he might just get away with this from that quarter.

"Mr Johnson, might I have your opinion please? If you can spare a moment that is," Cowdry asked, quietly. Johnson, forced to come closer, gave him a look of intolerance, crossed with mild amusement.

"What is it, Mr Cowdry?"

"In here. Quick."

Johnson grunted but entered the room. He saw Cowdry's dilemma as soon as he walked in and looked at the young still training valet.

"Mr Curry has left it up to me. How do I decide?" Cowdry asked, anxiously.

"Hmmm," pondered Johnson, and walked forward to examine the three suits. He checked inside each, looking at the tailor's labels. When he had finished he stood back beside Cowdry.

"This is an easy decision, Mr Cowdry," he said, with aplomb.

"It is?" Cowdry looked in pain. He'd failed. He knew it. A life of polishing spoons beckoned!

A wry smile crossed Johnson's life. "The one on the right, Mr Cowdry."

Cowdry nodded. "Why sir?"

"It's Fisk and Cushing. If you have a Fisk amongst the options THAT is always the one."

Cowdry took a deep breath, nodded, and swallowed hard. "Thank you sir." He was relieved he had an answer but that wasn't all he needed to know. "Why sir? For future reference and Mr Curry will ask."

"You mustn't tell him!" Johnson looked horrified at the thought. "A gentleman's gentleman should always maintain an air of authority in these matters. You are here to guide. Not inform."

"No sir I won't," Cowdry said, shaking his head furiously.

Johnson gave him a look of doubt, grunted but then relented.

"Fisk have their main branch in London, Mr Cowdry." Johnson paused deliberately for effect. "Where they have a royal appointment."

Suddenly all was clear!

"Ah!"

"Do your research, Mr Cowdry," Johnson said as he crossed to the door. "And you will make a fine gentleman's gentleman," he added, with a smile before he disappeared.

ASJASJASJASJ

"What made you decide on this suit, Cowdry?" the Kid asked, later as Cowdry helped him on with the jacket.

"I couldn't possibly say sir."

"Paul," the Kid, growled. He looked at the label. "Why Fisk and Cushing? The other two were … ."

"David Quilley and Levy and Goldberg, sir."

"All good tailors."

"Yes sir."

"In fact … ." The Kid held up a finger. "The three BEST tailors in Boston."

"Yes sir."

"And you decided on the Fisk."

"Yes sir."

"How?"

Cowdry turned aside to put away the selection of cufflinks that the Kid had picked from earlier.

"I found a three sided coin, sir," he murmured.

"Cowdry!"

At that moment, the interconnecting door open and Caroline stepped in. As usual, she was immaculately dressed. All the Kid could do was stare, open-mouthed.

"Wowee!" he breathed.

On this occasion, she was sensational. Caroline Curry, nee Fairfield, was one of the few women in 1880's Boston society who could wear red, without looking like a woman of easy virtue. Tonight she wore a scarlet silk damask in chrysanthemum pattern, by Worth, a highly sought after French fashion house. The contoured bodice, was a nod to the Kid that he preferred to see the real her. And he was seeing a lot of her tonight. The off the shoulder blood red satin detail and plunging neckline, accentuated the fashionable whiteness of her skin. She would turn heads at the Gala but she would be on HIS arm.

"Jed, you wanted something earlier. What was it?" She smiled, knowingly and pleased at his reaction. "Oh, I see you decided on the Fisk and Cushing suit. Well done."

"Huh?" The Kid jolted out of his stupor, looked down at himself. It was obviously the right choice but how on earth could she tell the tailor just by looking?

He shrugged nonchalantly, happy to take the credit. "Well yeah … 'course." He glanced at Cowdry, who was impassive.

"Are you ready?" Caroline asked, noting the looks between Jed and Cowdry but decided not to comment.

"I reckon." The Kid looked to Cowdry for confirmation, who nodded.

The Kid gestured to the door. He started to follow but paused next to Cowdry.

"Me and you are gonna sit down and have a long, long talk before too long," he said in a low voice. He appeared threatening but the grin, which followed and the fond touch of Cowdry's arm told that man not to worry.

"Yes sir."

As Cowdry closed the door on his employer, he grinned.

Phew! Got away with that one.

ASJASJASJASJ

During the day, there was the estate to run. After an afternoon spent with Mr Lesley, going over the quarterly accounts, the minutiae had bored him almost into a soporific stupor. Only by sheer willpower had the Kid forced himself to maintain an interest for Caroline's sake. As soon as he could escape, he returned to the main house and decided to take a nap before dinner.

When Cowdry came up to help him dress for dinner, he found the Kid dead to the world.

Cowdry busied himself around the room, laying out the Kid's dinner clothes and other accoutrements. He looked over at the bed; the Kid was still asleep. It was now 7.15. What to do? Cowdry crept over to the bed. Should he wake him?

"Sir?" No response. "Sir?" he tried again, a bit louder. Still no response.

Cowdry decided to light the lamp on the nightstand. Perhaps light would wake him. No. He pushed the lamp nearer.

"Sir?"

Cowdry was running out of ideas. Should he wake him? Gingerly he nudged the Kid's arm. This time the Kid stirred and turned over to face the lamp.

"Sir?"

Now the Kid came awake suddenly, his right hand out of habit slapping at his thigh. He looked at Cowdry wide-eyed.

"Wa ..!" Then he realised and put his hand to his forehead. "Cowdry its you!" The Kid took a deep breath. "Wow!"

"I'm sorry sir."

The Kid groaned. "Not as sorry as I am." Slowly he sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. "Ya've aged me about ten years." He sat with his hands over his face, elbows resting on his knees. "Tomorrow we get an alarm clock if I'm gonna do this." He sighed and looked up at Cowdry. "Would ya see to it please?"

"Yes sir. I'll see to it."

"Thank you. What's the time?"

"Nearly 7.20 sir."

"Oh." The Kid looked round at his dinner suit laid out and took a deep breath. "D'ya know Cowdry …" He gave another sigh and looked at the young man he now found indispensable. "I ain't gonna change tonight. Madam will just have to take me as I am."

Cowdry gave a sharp intake of breath and then nodded, unsure. "Yes sir."

"Don't give me that look," the Kid scowled.

"Sir?" Cowdry said innocently and swallowed. He hoped madam wouldn't think HE hadn't done his job properly.

"Okay. I might brush my hair," the Kid conceded and got up. "I don't see the point of getting' all gussied up when there's just the two of us."

"Yes sir. Shall I er hang this back up then sir?" Cowdry picked up the suit and shirt and stood waiting for permission.

"Yes do." Cowdry turned towards the dressing room.

With a sigh, the Kid tidied himself. He was dressed in western clothes today: pants, coloured shirt and waistcoat. He brushed his hair. "That'll do."

When he turned from the mirror, Cowdry looked surprised that the Kid actually meant what he said. He really was going down to dinner dressed as he was.

"I'm going down as I am, Paul. There isn't time to change now and I mustn't be late for that darn gong." He paused and looked back, a rueful smile on his face "Ya'd best hang around. I might get sent back," he said rolling his eyes.

"Yes sir."

The Kid went downstairs into the drawing room. Caroline was waiting for him. A flicker of irritation crossed her face when she saw what he was wearing.

"Caroline," the Kid started. With his hands behind his back, he crossed to the fireplace. "I've decided something." He turned on his heel and faced her. "I'm not gonna change for dinner from now on when there's just the two of us."

"I see," she said, crisply. "That's … very decisive of you."

"Yes it is," he agreed.

"And why may I ask have you come to that conclusion?" Her manner was not amused. She sat stiffly.

"Cos we're at home and alone."

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't uphold our standards," she said, haughtily.

"No. No." He put a finger to his mouth in contemplation. "But … neither does it mean we have to be all straitlaced 'bout it." He tucked his fingers into the front pockets of his pants and started to pace in front of the fireplace. "It's just you and me Caroline. There's nobody to impress." He sighed. "We do that enough and it has its place but when we're alone I don't think those standards apply."

"I see." She looked at him hard. "So you're … NOT going to change?"

"Nope." He looked back at her challengingly.

"I see." She looked away, considering. "Would you like your dinner on a tray in your room?"

The Kid smiled. "No." He came and sat in front of her. She looked up. "What I would like is to have dinner with my wife and not be made to feel like a naughty child," he said, deliberately slowly.

She took a deep breath, tried to keep looking away but failing miserably. No matter how hard she tried to stop it, a smile twitched on her lips. Trying to maintain her decorum, made even harder by his amused look. Then he reached down and found her hand on her lap. He gave it a squeeze.

She drew herself. "Very well if that's your decision … I suppose I shall have to accept it," she gave in.

"Jus' when we're alone Caroline," he confirmed.

She nodded.

Outside the gong was striking.

"Shall we go in?" The Kid offered his arm.

Caroline rose and took it. Together they walked into the small dining room, which they used when alone. Johnson and Thompson, the footman on duty tonight, were on hand to serve dinner. The Kid held out the chair for Caroline himself. Usually that was Johnson's job. Caroline looked at him in query as he took his own seat. He seemed unperturbed as Thompson dropped a napkin over his lap.

"Thank you," he smiled in acknowledgement.

Caroline eyed her husband. Although she had given in, her face still looked disgruntled. Finally, she gave a deep sigh. "Perhaps you're right," she said, quietly, leaning forward.

"About what?" The Kid looked innocent.

Caroline sat back so Thompson could serve the soup. "Perhaps you're right about not dressing for dinner when there is just the two of us." She gave another sigh. "I'll not do it tomorrow either."

"That's the spirit!" the Kid grinned.

Caroline smiled. "Mr Jones, I think you're corrupting me," she said, quietly so only he would hear. Then louder to Thompson, indicating that she had enough soup. "Thank you." Johnson poured the wine and she flickered her eyes at him, in slight irritation. Might be an idea if she and Jed dined alone tonight.

Thompson moved round the table to the Kid, who smiled knowingly. When enough soup was in his bowl, he raised his hand. "Thank you." Johnson followed with the wine. The Kid nodded when Johnson asked by a slight raise of the eyebrow if he should leave the bottle within reach.

Johnson and Thompson took their customary places at the side of the room. Caroline met Johnson's eye and gave a firm nod. He understood that he and Thompson should leave. The Kid frowned at the closing door. This was odd.

"What's up?"

"Nothing exactly. Your unilateral decision reminded me that I still know so little about you. I … thought we could talk over dinner and I … felt … that you would be more comfortable talking if we were alone that's all." She attended to her soup.

The Kid watched her for a moment before breaking his bread roll and dunking it in his soup. She saw him and smiled. She would wait until he was ready to talk. Eating always came first with Mr Curry.

"What do you want to talk about ma'am?" the Kid asked, when he'd nearly finished.

She hesitated. "There is something I've wanted to ask you for some time but I … I'm not sure I want to know. Or … or should know."

The Kid looked at her sharply. They had discussed his past life, skating over the loss of his family, the women he had dallied with, and his relationship with Heyes. What else was there?

"Just ask."

She took a deep breath. "Well you had a reputation as a gunman didn't you?"

He nodded and when she didn't say anymore he looked up from mopping out his soup bowl.

"Did you …? Have you …? When you used the gun did …?" She wasn't usually so reticent and it was frustrating her. "Well did you ever kill anyone?"

The Kid stopped mopping. After what had happened in Matherville, he and Heyes had agreed to keep that event between themselves. He sighed. Caroline was his wife. She had a right to know. "Yeah. Once. In self-defence," he said, quietly, not daring to look up.

Caroline didn't say anything for a moment. She swallowed hard. She hadn't REALLY expected him to say yes. Yet why had she thought that? There was no real reason, except perhaps she had hoped.

"What happened?"

He pushed his bowl and the plate it was on to one side. He leant on the table and looked her straight in the eye. "I had no choice. He was a fast gun. At least as fast as me. I didn't go looking, Caroline. He called me out and it was him or me."

"Why did he call you out?" She played idly with her spoon, not looking at him.

"'Cos I was leaving town and he thought I was gonna come back in the night and murder him. He wanted it over."

"And would you?" She looked at him

The Kid looked down, shaking his head. "No. He'd killed a friend of mine and very nearly killed Heyes and me. We tried to get what he owed us by threatening to tell the sheriff 'bout what he'd done to us and Seth. But he called our bluff. So Heyes and me were leaving town. Try an' get as far away from him as possible."

"Did he know who you were?"

"Nope. At least not for sure. He'd guessed … we were wanted but I don't think he knew who we were exactly, no."

"And obviously nothing happened to you."

"The sheriff saw everything. He heard him call me out. He heard me say I was leaving town and saw me start to walk away. Sheriff was satisfied that I hadn't started it so Heyes and me could leave."

"I shouldn't have asked should I?"

"Yeah ya should. I reckon ya have a right to know," he said, quietly. "Surprised ya haven't asked afore this."

"It's not something to bring up in polite conversation."

"No, it ain't. But Caroline …" He waited until she looked at him. "It's not something I'm proud of either," he said, quietly. "If they'd a been any other way, I'd a taken it. Please believe me."

"Yes I do." She took a deep breath. "Well I asked and you told me and we'll … ." She took a deep breath. "Draw a line under it." She smiled, albeit weakly. "Now tell me something funny."

"Something funny? Oh well now I'll have to give THAT some thought."

ASJASJASJASJ

After dinner, Caroline and the Kid strolled in the garden. It was beginning to be cold in the evenings but arm in arm neither appeared to feel the chill.

"I've thought of something funny," the Kid said, slowly. "Ya won't split your sides but it's the best I can do. There wasn't a lot of laughs trying to go straight."

Caroline smiled at him and squeezed his arm to encourage him.

"It was a friend of ours, Lom Trevors, who brokered the deal with the Governor for us. He used to ride with us but he went straight years before. He's the sheriff in Porterville these days."

"The town where we met?"

"Yes ma'am. So when me and Heyes decided to go straight … ."

"What made you decide to go straight? You've never really said."

He smiled. "A little ole lady. From right here in Boston as a matter of fact."

Caroline tightened her arm in his. "Boston looms large in your life it seems."

The Kid wasn't entirely sure he understood what she meant but agreeing appeared to be the appropriate response.

"Yes ma'am. It does appear that way."

They shared a shy smile.

"So a little old lady from Boston?"

"Yes she gave me a notice 'bout the amnesty programme the Governor was trying out. Weren't for the likes of us though. As Heyes put it at the time, only meant for chicken thieves, land grabbers and rag-pickin' penny stealers. WE had fame and notoriety as legendary highwaymen."

"Legendary?" Caroline raised her eyebrows.

"Yes ma'am," the Kid grinned. "Whether ya like it or not, Caro, ya're married to a legend!"

They laughed gently together as they strolled. Caroline had noted the unconscious shortening of her name. If anyone else had done so, there would most certainly be short shrift. Somehow, she didn't seem to mind that Jed had abbreviated her name.

"Sometime that night we got thinking about it," he sighed. "Come morning we'd both decided that we'd go see what it was all about. 'Course we couldn't jus' ride up to any ole sheriff an' ask so it had to be Lom or no one. So we went to see him. We knew he could intercede for us with the Governor."

"Intercede?"

The Kid glanced at her. She smiled back.

"Yes ma'am. It means to act as a go between two parties."

"Yes Jed I know what it means." Caroline smile became broader. She knew he had been spending time in the library.

He sniffed but his mouth was twitching in amusement and he patted her hand. "We had to convince Lom first that we were serious but we managed and he went off to Cheyenne the next morning to … intercede for us." He rolled his eyes at her. "So me and Heyes waited in Porterville for him to come back. We even got jobs in the bank! But that's another story. All was going swell until Wheat and the boys turned up."

"Wheat and the boys?"

"The rest of the Devil's Hole Gang. When we told them what we were doing, they didn't believe us. They thought we was planning to rob the bank without them. So they hung around, playing poker but generally keeping outta the way.

"The deputy got a telegram from Lom earlier on the night he was due back tellin' him to arrest us. Now we thought Lom had betrayed us and was talking up our price so we broke outta jail and …"

"How did you break out of jail?"

The Kid cleared his throat. "Well er the deputy see … had the keys to the cells on his belt and I er … well I lifted them when he wasn't looking." He looked away embarrassed.

"Go on Mr Jones," she encouraged, with a knowing smile.

"Yes ma'am," he sighed. "He hadn't noticed that I had taken the keys and he went off on his rounds, leaving us all locked up. Or so he thought. Heyes and me thought we'd take revenge on Lom by robbing the bank. We'd always stayed away from his town outta respect for him but now this was different. So we broke into the hardware store and stole some dynamite. The same hardware store that Heyes now runs." He smiled at her.

"So we climbed up onto the roof of the bank and cut a hole in it right above the safe. We lit the dynamite and placed it on top of the safe." He took a deep breath. "What we didn't know at the time was that Wheat and the boys had been digging a tunnel from the saloon to the bank. How they managed it, I dunno. And they set their dynamite underneath the safe. Now Heyes figured that it would take Lom a few minutes to get from the train station to the bank once his train had arrived. So we set the dynamite to go off just as the train arrived."

He took a deep breath. "And for once Wheat had the same idea. Both lots of dynamite went off at the same time." He glanced. "I'm told ya could hear the explosion five miles away. It wasn't just the safe we blew up but the whole goddam bank! Excuse me ma'am." He cleared his throat. "There was money floating about all over the square. Folks trying to catch it. Heyes and me trying to stop Wheat and the boys." He shook his head and smiled. "I guess you had to be there to see how funny it was."

Caroline smiled. "But you two were the most successful outlaws in the West. I'd even heard you were legendary." She bit her lip. "How on earth did you get that accolade when you did things like that?"

"Oh well now ma'am it wasn't exactly all our fault y'know!" he said, defensively.

Now Caroline did laugh. "Pride, Mr Jones?"

"Yeah! We were the best of our profession," he said, still looked disgruntled. "Mostly."

"Very well. You've told me about Porterville and you told me about the other job. Where you were shot in the leg and only got away with a few dollars."

"The Hanford job. And it was $73."

She nodded, accepting the correction. "So tell me about one that went as planned."

The Kid grinned. "Well that's easy. The Merchant's bank in Denver." He looked thoughtful. "That was the unrobbable bank but we done it. Scientific papers even got wrote about how we done it too."

"Scientific papers?" She looked doubtful.

"Yep. 'cos of the brand new way Heyes came up with to rob a bank."

"How?" She looked at him and saw how proud he was of his friend.

The Kid shook his head. "I dunno the details exactly but it involved pumping." He rolled his eyes. "Me doing a lotta pumping."

"Pumping?"

"Yeah with a pump. It's to create a vacuum. It makes the nitro work better." He pursed his lips. "All I know is I had to pump 'til Heyes told me to stop."

"I don't understand."

"Nope nor me. I jus' did what I was told. That's usually the best way when Heyes gets the look." He nodded and then grinned. "We got $70,000 and Heyes got a lot of satisfaction outta it. Didn't stop grinning for a least a week." He looked away. "He was insufferable," he muttered.

She didn't hear but she gathered what he had said and smiled. Then something occurred to her.

"Denver is in Colorado yet you were only wanted in Wyoming? Why was that?"

The Kid grunted. "We done jobs all over the West ma'am. St. Louis, Fort Worth to name a few. It's jus' that only the rich organisations could afford to put an attractive enough bounty on our heads."

"Such as?"

"Union Pacific, Wells Fargo, Western Bankers Association. They all kinda clubbed together."

"The wanted poster in the study says Midwest Railroad."

"Yes ma'am. That's one version. Loads out there. All under different names but all financed by the same big three."

"Hmmm, I think my father might have put up some of that reward." When he looked at her, she shrugged. "Sorry."

He smiled and patted her hand, resting on his arm. "Jus' the way it was Caro. We were a thorn stuck in the sides of a lotta big businesses. Guess they wanted us shut down an' outta the way. Offering a big reward seemed like the way to do it." He shrugged. "Suppose I can understand that. At the time, the amount of the reward came with bragging rights of jus' how successful we were. When we were trying for the amnesty it took on a whole new meaning."

"Like the dead or alive part?"

The Kid scowled. "Yeah, 'specially that bit."

They strolled in silence each deep in thought, then Caroline looked up.

"You said scientific papers. What did you mean?"

The Kid looked at her "Guess I'd better start at the beginning."

"I guess you had!"

He looked at her, surprised she had used his vocabulary. He found it quite off putting. He liked her as she was. Sophisticated lady she may be. Way out of the league of gals he had associated with previous. A fanciful idea sprung into his head but he couldn't entirely dismiss it. Was he in love with her? Disconcerted by his own thoughts, he hadn't realised he'd drifted off until she squeezed his arm.

"Go on."

"Like I said, it was the Merchant's Bank in Denver. Well, it was obvious from the first that security wasn't the best. Turned out to be an easy job. So we went back a year later. Only this time security had tightened. Now there was a brand new safe: the very latest. And I spent a whole night watching Heyes trying to crack it. But he just couldn't do it. Came away empty handed in the end."

"I should imagine that made a dent in his pride," she commented.

He looked at her sharply. She had obviously taken in all he'd said about Heyes and she was beginning to know him, even though they had never met.

"Yeah, ya could say that. It kept nagging at him. He was mumbling and cursing that there had to be a way! Drove us all mad with his frustration. Us being me and the boys in the Gang ma'am. In the end, Heyes started collecting books. Took over the whole table with 'em. And scribbling in a notebook. That's when I knew he hadn't let it go and he had something in mind."

"Books?"

"Y'know learn-ed books. Like ya've got here in ya library. With diagrams and charts an' things."

Caroline smiled and patted his arm to continue.

"Anyways he musta hit on it 'cos he woke me in the middle of night to try an' tell me." The Kid looked away, shaking his head. "The man has no sense of time sometimes." Just like you, he thought. "He'd worked it all out. Showed me pieces of paper with mathematics formulas on it and diagrams and a shopping list and instructions." He sighed and shook his head. He puffed. "Looked like a load of scratchings to me but Heyes assured me it was a plan and it would work."

"Isn't that a little unusual?"

"I told ya Heyes IS unusual. He's a thinker. He can't stand it when he can't puzzle things out. He has to understand things. So he taught himself how to understand how to rob that bank."

"So the way … he did it … earned him a mention in a scientific journal?"

"That's right. Scientific American I think it's called."

"But I have most of them here!" Caroline cried. "Father collected them."

"Then we can go look."

Ten minutes later, they were poring over various editions of the journal. The Kid couldn't remember which one but he knew when they had robbed the Merchant's Bank.

"Jed," Caroline said, quietly. "I've found it."

The Kid moved to stand beside her and smiled when he read the first line.

"That's it."

Caroline began to read.

"_This method of blowing a safe was invented by the notorious outlaw Hannibal Heyes when he and his partner, Kid Curry robbed the Merchant's Bank in Denver, Colorado, June 1879. (Both men are currently still at large. 1882)" It should be noted in particular for its ingenious use of nitro glycerine as the propellant, coupled with the creation of a vacuum to enhance the explosive properties. It should also be noted that this method makes very little sound, making it ideal for use in bank robbery!"_

Caroline laughed. "It's really here!"

"Didn't you believe me Caroline?" the Kid asked, faintly amused.

"Yes of course. It was too easy for me to check but I did find it a little hard to believe." She leaned over to peer more closely at it. "It's all here. How he did it in detail." She shook her head. "Surely anyone could do it now."

"Yeah someone tried." The Kid picked up the book. "Not long after we got amnesty this appeared an' not long after that someone tried his method." The Kid rolled his eyes and shut the book with a snap. He smacked his lips. "Didn't work though. Heyes told me that some vital components … y'know bits of equipment were left outta the paper. Don't think they caught who done it but the law was real mad at the author of this paper for putting the idea in their heads."

"So how did Heyes find out about this?"

"Oh 'cos he reads Scientific American. When he can get his hands on it." He smiled and put his hands in his pants pockets. "I don't think I've ever seen Heyes that excited. We'd gone straight by that time then so we couldn't celebrate properly if ya catch my drift."

Caroline smiled up at him. "I would really like to meet your friend Heyes one day."

"Yeah. I expect you will. Someday." He walked away abruptly. "Don't ask … 'cos I haven't." No he hadn't written to Heyes!

Caroline pursed her lips as she watched him walk out of the door. She refiled the book and followed him slowly.

Later that night she crept into his bedroom and into his bed. He wasn't asleep. He was lying there one arm flung over his head. As she snuggled up and put her head on his chest, his arm came down and round her shoulders.

"I'm sorry for stomping off like that," he breathed into her hair.

"I didn't ask," she whispered.

"Don't." His mouth found hers now. "Don't say anything for the next little spell unless its Oooh, Mr Jones!" he chuckled, rolling her onto her back. "Remember I'm legendary."

"Show me why that is," she said, softly, snaking her hand round his neck and pulling him down.

ASJASJASJASJ

Christmas came and went and early into the New Year, found the Kid in his study. The way he had taken over that room staked his claim to the right to call it HIS study. He had made two resolutions. Both would be difficult and daunting in their own way.

The first was to write to Heyes. Apart from the hastily scribbled note in the Christmas card that Caroline had insisted on sending to Heyes and Mary, there had not been any communication between the partners. Jed knew that Heyes deserved a better explanation for why he had ran out on him. He desperately wanted to explain his thinking. But how? Sitting here reading the newspaper wouldn't do it. Jed tossed it aside and took himself off to the study. Strike while the iron is hot and all that.

He sat down behind the desk, puffed and took out a sheet of paper from the top drawer. He smiled at the embossed image of the house he now lived in, followed by the address, Fairfield Place, Waltham, Boston, Massachusetts.

Picking out the pen from the ink well he wrote:

_January 6, 1885_

and sighed. That was something at least. Lots more blank space to fill though so he wrote:

_Dear Heyes,_

and paused.

Hmmm, was Heyes dear? Was that the correct way to address him? SHOULD he address him that way given the circumstances? The Kid balled up the paper and tossed it in the nearby waste bin.

Deep breath, he brought out a fresh sheet and wrote:

_January 6, 1885._

Then on the next line:

_My Dearest Cousin._

No, no, no! That's how Caroline would write, he mumbled to himself in annoyance. The scrunched up paper followed the first.

Third try.

_January 6, 1885,_

_Howdy Partner._

Nope, too familiar and he wasn't sure if Heyes WAS still his partner. Or even if Heyes would want to be.

Fourth try, suddenly realising that interception was a possibility.

_January 6, 1885,_

_Joshua._

Nope, too abrupt.

Fifth try.

_January 6, 1885,_

_Hi Joshua,_

_Hope you received the Christmas card we sent._

The Kid groaned and put his head in his hands. Why was this so difficult? He sat up and looked at what he'd written. It was a good start. Yet what did he want to say now? Turning over the paper, he began to make notes, organising his thoughts by asking himself questions, as Heyes had told him to do.

_Why had he left?_ Hmmm, that was complicated.

_Where was he living now?_ Boston.

_How was he getting on?_ Good.

_What was he doing with his days?_ He thought about what he had been doing since he arrived there and wrote:

1\. Escorting Caroline around Boston. He and Caroline existed within a large social set. They had many friends. None as close to him as Heyes of course but friends all the same.

2\. Learning how to ride on one of these tiny eastern saddles – bruises healed now.

3\. Studying the stock market.

4\. Helping out on the estate.

5\. Starting my own business – yes really! He jotted down some notes about that.

The Kid hadn't realised that Boston had a large Irish community. They had begun arriving over forty years previously, in vast numbers, as the result of famine in their homeland. From the beginning, despised and regarded with suspicion. However, through grit and determination, the community had pulled itself out of the gutter. The Irish community was now making a success of its new home, even boasting an Irish-born Congressman. Indeed, just yesterday, January 5, saw the first Irish-born mayor of Boston, Hugh O'Brien, taking the oath of office. The Kid and Caroline had been there to witness.

The Kid found himself in a position where he could help promote good ideas, which needed support, either in an entrepreneurial way or by philanthropic means. His support came either financially or with practical advice. After all his years of taking, he wanted to give something back, make a difference. Learning how the Irish community had suffered, when first arrived, they became his main focus. Money wasn't always needed for good ideas to work. Sometimes it was just a fresh pair of eyes. He'd take a look and told them honestly if he thought the idea would work. If more knowledge was required, he now knew people who might help and made the introductions. If a business, he took a small percentage, in shares or as a commission percentage on net profits. He already had the resources; an office, a company name, Curry Investments, and an assistant. If philanthropic, he had learnt to his cost that anonymity was the best way and was content to be the mysterious wealthy backer.

Visiting the docks one day, he had chanced across a flyer for Sister Grace, who was giving an evangelical talk at the nearby Seaman's Mission. There was a large audience and he managed to elbow his way in to stand at the back. She looked the same as he remembered and it was obvious she had learnt from her experiences out West. She wasn't breathing fire and brimstone but she was holding the rough and uneducated audience spellbound. The Kid smiled and backed away unnoticed, slipping a hundred dollars through the slot of the collection box on his way out.

6\. Oh and playing golf, he added as an afterthought to his list.

_How long did he plan to stay?_

Here, the Kid put down the pen. He didn't know was the simple answer. He felt settled here now. Yet how much longer COULD he stay? How much longer did Caroline WANT him to stay? What did he feel for her? What did she feel for him? He had awakened something in her he knew he had. Cool, aloof and haughty she could be in public. In private, in his bed, in his arms she was a passionate woman. She was stirring his blood there was no mistake about that. She was his wife and she was beautiful. And he … . Sheesh, he couldn't bring himself to even think it.

He smiled. He wanted to know more about her, know everything about her. They seemed well suited, despite their differing backgrounds. They laughed at the same things, they were comfortable together and not afraid to be tactile in public. Her hand often strayed into his and vice versa. That was something their friends had noticed and a few close friends had even commented on.

Yet neither of them had uttered the L word. The Kid wanted to know what Caroline thought. What were her plans now that they had proved the legitimacy of their marriage? Did those plans include him? He wanted to know but then again he didn't. He was afraid to know. In case, … she told him to go. That wasn't something he wanted to contemplate. The only thing he did know; was prepared to admit was that he didn't want to go.

The conversation at breakfast the other morning hadn't helped any when Caroline had suddenly asked, "What are we doing, Mr Jones?" She still called him Mr Jones when they were intimate or alone. It made him smile that she had a pet name for him.

He'd stopped chewing for a moment, and then finished his mouthful slowly. She had nonplussed him. He hadn't expected to have that conversation then and there. He did know what she was meaning though but he was unwilling to answer. He needed to think about it some more. Choose his words carefully. Plan it all out. He swallowed and took a deep breath as he thought how to reply.

"I think … we're being married. That's what I think." He looked at her earnestly. "And doing a pretty good job of it."

Caroline smiled.

"Yes I think so too," she agreed. She had seemed relieved. "You … do like it … here don't you?" She looked eager for his answer. The Kid had considered carefully. Heyes was always telling him never rush into things on impulse. That had worked well hadn't it? Rushing off to Boston with a stranger, a NEEDY stranger, Heyes would probably count as one of those impulsive things.

"Well …" Stalling he picked up his orange juice, took a deep pull, before setting it down deliberately slowly and looking thoughtfully at it. "Well ma'am it ain't what I'm used to. Guess you know that but it does have its attractions." Here he was, used to facing down deadly gunman and he'd bottled it; he knew he had. He hated himself for it. Still staring at his glass, he nodded.

"And … what might they be?" Caroline asked, nervously.

He considered carefully before he answered. There was still time. Caroline had given him another opportunity but no. His nerve faltered once again.

"Paved sidewalks!" Now he did look at her. He was serious but his sparkling blue eyes told of his playfulness.

A laugh burst out of her. "Paved … paved sidewalks?" She looked incredulous.

"Yes ma'am," he confirmed. "An' cobbled streets. Where I come from you can take your life in your feet crossin' them streets sometimes. All that mud and muck churned up by the horses and wagons. And the sidewalks they ain't much safer either. What with the loose boards and missing steps. A man really has to watch his step. It's dangerous." He was emphatic. He picked up the knife to butter a second piece of toast.

Caroline dabbed at her mouth with her napkin to hide her smile.

"That's not exactly what I meant Mr Jones."

"I know what you meant." His voice was harder now and he glanced at her quickly. "There are other attractions too." Buttering his toast took his concentration for a few moments. "We're rubbing along quite nicely aren't we?" he said finally, so quietly she barely heard. He didn't look up.

"Yes Mr Jones. Very nicely indeed."

Thinking back to that conversation made the Kid smile. They WERE rubbing along nicely together and he really didn't want to do or say anything that might change that.

Yet his second resolution this New Year was tell his wife how he felt and live with the consequences even if they were bad. Hearing her arrival in the hall, perhaps now was the time.

"Hi," he greeted.

Caroline spun round. "Oh, Jed." She looked him up and down. "I thought you would be ready by now." She made for the stairs, obviously in a rush.

"Huh?"

She paused and looked back. "The Pattersons. We're dining with them tonight. I'm sorry I was delayed. We're going to be late." She progressed up the stairs as he groaned.

"Caroline, can we talk first?" he cried, following her. "I'm sure they won't mind if we're a little late."

"Jed, there's a difference between being fashionably late and rude. We're in danger of being the latter if you don't hurry up. Cowdry will be waiting for you."

"Caroline … Awh!"

Her bedroom door had shut on him.

He tossed his hands in the air. His second resolution would have to wait. Just like his first. Would he ever get them done? Fate seemed determined to stop him. So for now there was nothing for it but to carry on as usual.

Boston Tailors

Fisk and Cushing appear in the Boston Business Directory of 1890 – I've no idea if they were tailors of repute and even so, certainly doubt they had a royal appointment.

Levy and Goldberg also appear in the directory.

David Quilley is made up.


	12. Dancing

Dancing

The possibility of the Kid leaving must have faded Caroline kept telling herself. He had so many ties to Boston. And their first wedding anniversary was fast approaching.

When she remembered that simple little ceremony, she had not considered for one moment that the marriage would last this long. She had envisaged a few months and then a quiet annulment, with Jed returning to Wyoming. Of course, she hadn't considered a wedding night like they had had and certainly not the intimacy they continued to share frequently. Was that what was making the difference? She suspected that was part of it but there had to be more to it.

Close friends could see that this was no marriage of convenience but that it was a true loving and intimate relationship. She had been surprised at how easy and so natural it was to be tactile with him in public. His hand often found its way into hers and vice versa.

It was her friend Frances Joslin who had first suggested that Caroline was in love with Jed.

"Well it's obvious darling!" Frances had said in response to her denial. "Jed and you are just so together. I don't blame you one bit for falling for him. Why if I wasn't married already I would be insisting you told me where you had found him and asking if there were any more like him!"

The Kid was also aware of their first wedding anniversary. They were going to New York with a group of friends, one of whom hailed from there. The visit would coincide with the engagement of the sister of that friend and they were all invited. The Kid would rather have spent the time alone with Caroline but she seemed eager to go. He had not been to New York yet and he was curious to see it so he had agreed. However, there was one thing he knew would come up while they were there. It wasn't something that filled him with enthusiasm but it was something he knew she would like. He would need some assistance to be able to carry it off so he enlisted some help.

"Well Jed, I received your note and here I am. What is the great mystery?" Frances leaned in eagerly as the Kid sat down opposite her. He had enlisted the help of Caroline's closest friend, Frances Joslin.

He had sent her a note asking her to meet him in a small out of the way teashop. The note had simply said that he had something to ask her but it was a secret. Frances had smelt intrigue and had immediately sent a note back agreeing to meet him.

"Well… ." He paused, hands tightly clasped on the table in front of him. "Me and Caroline have been married for nearly a year now …"

"Is it really only that long?" Frances laughed, interrupting him. "You seem to have been part of our little set for ever!"

"Yes ma'am." He smiled and then cleared his throat. "Anyway as I was saying our anniversary will be on the 15th. The same day as the engagement do …" He waved a hand casually. "They'll be dancin' won't there?" He burst out. As Caroline's closest friend and one of the New York party she would know.

"Yes of course," she confirmed and looked doubtful. She wasn't sure where this was going.

"Yeah that's what I was afraid of," he sighed, looking a little green. Then he leaned in again. "See ma'am it's like this … Caroline likes to dance don't she?"

"Yes she does."

He nodded. He knew it.

"Well … see … I don't. Least ways I don't know how," he said slowly. Swallowing hard he continued. "Not proper dancin'. I can do-ce-do with the best of 'em but that ain't … Caroline's thing."

Frances smiled. "What are you trying to say Jed?"

The Kid took a deep breath. "Well I figgered it would be kinda nice for Caroline to dance with me … one time. As a surprise for our anniversary. What d'you think?"

Frances' smile deepened. "I think she will be delighted."

She could certainly see what Caroline saw in him. He was oh so handsome with those piercing blue eyes and curly blond hair that just ached to have fingers run through it. His boyish smile and quirky sense of humour. His charming and uneducated ways that were strangely attractive. The vulnerability he tried to hide that made one want to hold him, preferably against one's bosom. _(Come back, Frances, come back.) _Sadly but delightfully, it was plain to see that he was in love with his wife.

"So? Will ya?"

Frances shook her head from the distraction of his blue eyes.

"Will I what?"

"Teach me to dance. So I can twirl Caroline round the dancefloor. In New York." He looked at her in anticipation.

Frances smiled. "Yes Jed I can teach you to dance."

He nodded, relieved but still looked nervous. "Good. Thank you."

Frances looked at him in amusement. "Which dance would you like to learn?"

"Huh?" Now he looked at her in horror. "There's more than one?" His voice came out in a squeak. He hadn't considered that.

Frances laughed. "Yes Jed there is."

The Kid looked shocked at that revelation and he swallowed. "Er … well er … which one is the best ma'am?"

"For what?" Frances raised an eyebrow. She couldn't resist teasing him.

"Well er …" He looked away embarrassed but then it came to him. "For a first anniversary," he said, grinning smugly.

"You won't go far wrong with a waltz."

"Okay." He sat back spreading his arms wide on the table and gave a firm nod. "A Waltz it is. An' is that easy to learn?"

"Yes. It's very simple foot work and you'll soon get the hang of it."

"Good. 'Cos I ain't much of a dancer. Two left feet my ma always used to say."

"So you did learn as a boy then?"

A shadow crossed his face. Frances wished she hadn't asked that question.

"No ma'am," he said, quietly. "Ma started to teach me … but … she was killed afore she could finish." He swallowed the bad memory. "An' I never had no call to learn proper dancin' until now. So I would be beholden to ya ma'am if you would teach me."

"I will teach you Jed. You'll do Caroline proud."

"That's good of ya. An' it's a secret mind? I want to surprise her."

"I understand," she assured him, pleased that he had taken her into his confidence for such an important task. She knew her friend would be so delighted by his actions.

ASJASJASJASJ

"So Jed you have really never danced formally before?" Frances asked when the Kid turned up for his first lesson. She wanted to know how much, if anything, he knew.

"No ma'am," the Kid said, quietly. He was nervous and he didn't think it was just the dancing. Frances may be Caroline's closest friend and married herself but he could tell she found him attractive. She was not above flirting with him and that was making him nervous. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all. He swallowed hard.

"You look like you're going to the gallows, Jed," Frances laughed. "There is nothing to be afraid of or embarrassed about. We all had to learn at some time."

"Yes ma'am."

He was perched on the edge of a chair looking very uncomfortable. He swallowed hard again. He looked round the room, the rug rolled back and the furniture repositioned around the walls. The room was ready for dance practice.

"Won't Max er … ." He waved a hand around. "Mind that ya … ." He couldn't think of the exact words.

"Oh Max won't notice a thing!" She grinned suddenly. "Unless he goes to sit down before the furniture is put back in place."

The Kid looked at her open mouthed.

"That won't happen Jed. The room will be back as it always is long before he gets home." Frances stood up suddenly and held out her arms to him. "Now, show me how you hold a woman."

"Ma'am?" He rose to his feet out of politeness, unsure what she was asking.

Frances looked amused at him.

"Jed, put your arms around me."

"Ma'am!" Now he was looking at her wide-eyed.

"I won't bite." Then she sighed and set about arranging his arms round her. The right hand at the base and middle of her shoulder blades, the other she held out. She shuffled her feet so she was standing square to him. She smiled up at him. He really was impossibly handsome. She hoped she could get through this without embarrassing herself. "Comfortable?"

"No ma'am," he admitted hoarsely. "Feels kinda silly."

Frances blinked. "I wouldn't say that to Caroline."

"No ma'am," he said, suitably chasten.

"And stop ma'aming me. My name is Frances. You know THIS."

"Yes m… Frances."

"That's better." She smiled. "Now. This is how we start. Do you understand how your body is?"

The Kid nodded but couldn't trust himself to speak. He was all too aware of how his body was. Far too close to this woman, best friend of his wife or not. He took a deep breath. "This close huh?" he said, tightly.

Frances looked amused. "When you are dancing with your wife Jed you can be a little closer," she purred. She raised an eyebrow pointedly.

The Kid cleared his throat. He was very embarrassed now.

"There's more to dancing than just knowing how to hold each other correctly. We have to move. Ready?"

He nodded unsure of what she was expecting of him.

"I want you to take a step forward with your left foot. Don't worry. I'll move back. And then move your right foot out to the right. Shall we try?"

He nodded. Nothing happened and Frances looked at him. "Is there a problem?"

"Er well how big a step?"

Frances took a deep breath. This was going to be more difficult than she thought.

"Well not a big stride or a little pigeon step. Just a normal walking step."

"Okay." The Kid composed himself and walked forward. She went back as promised. Both were aware of legs pressed against legs, albeit with skirts and pants in between. Quickly, they transferred their weight to the other foot, where anatomy separated.

"Now close the left foot to the right. That's it. Now we do the whole thing in reverse. Step back with your right foot, to the side with the left and then close right to left."

She looked up at him and smiled when they were back at the beginning. "That's it."

He let out a deep sigh. "Well that ain't so bad ma'am," he grinned, relieved.

"Those are the basic steps. There's a little more to it." She saw his face fall. "But not a lot more," she added quickly. Frances had a metronome for keeping their rhythm and she went off to set it. "Now let's put it all together."

They only danced the basic square for the first lesson.

The next lesson she taught him the rise and fall and the turn. The Kid struggled with the rise and fall, wondering why it was necessary. Frances patiently explained that to dance the Waltz correctly, their bodies should swing and sway. The rise and fall was required to make their movements look natural.

He had even more problems with the turn, stomping on Frances' feet several times. While he understood the reason for the turn, in order to change direction, the different timings constantly caught him out. He was either too slow or too fast.

It took another two lessons before he had mastered both techniques properly.

Frances engaged a violinist for the fifth lesson. At first, the Kid was embarrassed having another person present as he waltzed Frances round the room. Then he realised the musician was concentrating on his violin and not on what was happening in the room. The Kid went home humming the music.

At the end of the sixth lesson, Frances declared he had it. All he needed now was to practise. She looked mischievously at him.

"Jed I know of a tea dance next week. We should go."

"What's one of them?"

"It's a public event where you can pay to go and dance. It's held in the afternoon, which is why it is called a tea dance. It will give us a chance to dance with other people in the room and with a proper orchestra."

"I dunno." The Kid winced, doubtfully. "Supposin' word gets back to Caroline?"

Frances tucked her hand under his arm and led him back to the sofa. "It'll be out of the way," she whispered. "Nobody will know us."

He continued looking doubtful.

"You're ready Jed but you need to practise. And where better than at a proper dance?"

"If you say so." He wasn't entirely convinced.

"You mustn't be embarrassed when you ask Caroline to dance. You'll be nervous enough as it is. You'll need to be confident that you know what you're doing." She patted his arm.

He nodded. She was right.

ASJASJASJASJ

A week later, Frances took the Kid to the tea dance. For a long while, the Kid sat and watched. He wasn't only watching the dancing. He was looking around to see if he might know anyone. Frances nudged him.

"Jed. There is no one here that we know," she whispered. "That's why I chose it."

"I'm just making sure," he whispered back.

"We're here to dance so shall we?"

The Kid took a deep breath. "Yeah." Beside him, Frances got up. "But 'afore we do I've got a query." She sat back down again and looked at him. "How … d'you avoid other folks?"

"You don't stare into my eyes!"

"Ma'am?"

She laughed and took his hand. "Come on. You'll understand as we do it."

Frances manoeuvred him onto the dance floor. They settled but nothing happened. They just stood there.

"Well?" Frances asked. "People are looking." She glanced her eyes sideways.

"Waiting for a break in traffic," he murmured.

Frances put her head down to hide her smirk. She composed herself with some difficulty and then looked back up. "Very well. I'LLtell you when we can go." She paused. "Now!"

Robotically he took a step forward and they were off. A few twirls later, they were heading for the wall.

"Turn! Thirty degrees," she whispered.

They turned and headed back into the centre of the room.

"And again!"

With Frances whispering directions, they circled the room in a tacking formation, until they were back where they started.

"Jed. You can do this. Let's go round again but you guide us this time."

He nodded. He frowned hard in concentration all the way round. They didn't bump into anyone or anything, much to his amazement.

"Very good. Once more Jed and try smiling this time."

He false smiled at her and held a rictus grin until Frances had seen enough.

"Jed! Relax! This is supposed to be fun not traumatic! Forget the smile. It's creepy."

The Kid set his features in neutral and they circled the room again. When they were back to their seat this time he'd had enough. He took out his handkerchief and mopped his face, puffing hard. In his previous life, he would have wiped his forehead on his shirtsleeve but he was training himself not to do that anymore.

"I don't think I can do this ma'am," he said, shaking his head. He looked at Frances appealingly. "Remembering all those steps, deciding when to turn, avoiding stepping on ya feet." He looked out at the dancefloor. "How do they make it look so easy?" he asked, sadly. He shook his head in disbelief.

"They're relaxed and enjoying being with their partners. And they've practised until it becomes second nature."

The Kid growled.

"Let's give it a few minutes and then we'll give it another go."

He looked at her sadly. "Really?"

"You do want to dance with Caroline don't you?"

"Yes ma'am," he said, shyly.

"And you don't want to step on her feet do you?"

"No ma'am."

"Then you need to practise until you don't have to think about it. So you can just enjoy holding her in your arms and being close with her."

The Kid looked away embarrassed.

Frances sighed. She could tell he wasn't convinced.

"That gun of yours?" she said, suddenly, inspiration striking. "The one with the fast draw?"

He looked back at her hard. He frowned not sure he'd heard right. "Er ma'am it's not the gun that has the fast draw," he explained, amazed at what he was saying. "It's … me who has the fast draw."

She shook her head dismissively. "Whatever. The point is how did you get it?"

He was unsure what she was saying and he frowned the question.

"Didn't you have to practise?"

"Yes ma'am. Lots of practise."

"You are very fast with it yes? So fast you're considered one of the fastest guns in the West?" She leant closer so that they weren't overheard.

He inclined his head modestly. "Doubt that's true now ma'am. Ain't held a gun in months. Reckon even ole Heyes could beat me these days."

She rolled her eyes. "Practise got you that accolade. Well isn't this the same thing? You need to PRACTISE this."

He sighed. "I don't wanna be the fastest dancer in the East," he muttered and then caught sight of her face. "Yes ma'am," he added, contritely.

She smiled as a new waltz started up. She raised her eyebrows at him.

He looked away. Some days, he thought, it had been easier being an outlaw. At least outlaws didn't dance. Well not regular anyway. Then he sighed and looked back with a smile.

"Frances would you like to dance?"

ASJASJASJASJ

A month later, the Currys were in New York. The engagement party was a grand affair, held in one of the top hotels. The Kid rolled his eyes; there must be five hundred people there. Caroline introduced him to congressmen, senators, bankers, railroad men and other wealthy and notable industrialists. Most of the men regarded him with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. Their wives also showed interest but of an entirely different nature.

Inevitably, the Kid found himself separated from Caroline. Escaping the clutches of a posse (the way he would describe it later) of wealthy and determined women, he searched around for Caroline. He couldn't see her and began to feel panicky that she wasn't in sight. She had casually told him that on a previous trip to New York with her father, an attempt was made to abduct her. So he was relieved when he spotted her sitting with a group of their friends, Frances included. That was good. She was safe. He took the opportunity to go outside.

When he returned the orchestra was playing the beginning of a waltz he recognised. As he joined the Boston party, he glanced at Frances. She nodded and smiled.

The Kid sighed. He tugged at his collar before walking over to where Caroline sat. She was chatting with the other ladies, a glass of wine in her hand. She didn't see him until he stopped in front of her.

"Excuse me ladies," he smiled, stopping their conversation.

"Jed?" Caroline looked up and blinked in surprise when he removed the glass from her hand to the table beside her.

"Would you care to dance?" he purred, helping her to her feet.

Caroline looked at him stunned as he escorted her out to the dancefloor.

"Jed!" she laughed as they prepared to dance.

"No stepping on my toes now y'hear?" he warned as they set off.

Caroline followed automatically looking at him in wonder. She finally found her voice half way round.

"You told me you didn't dance?" It was a question.

"I didn't," he confirmed. "Until I learnt."

"When …?" she laughed. "Who … taught you?" she spluttered. She had offered to teach him on several occasions but he had always declined. He refused to give a reason and in the end, Caroline had given up on the subject.

"When? Fairly recently so don't go expecting anything flash will ya?" He grinned at her. "Who? Well that's my secret."

"Jed, I don't know what to say." There were tears in her eyes.

"Happy anniversary, Caroline." His grin broadened. "Ha! Ha! Bet ya thought I'd forgotten!"

Caroline smiled. "Well our wedding was such a low key affair … I can hardly blame you."

"Maybe it was but I do remember. It was a nice day."

"Yes it was." She was looking up at him with a mixture of pleasure and anxiousness.

"The sun was shining. It wasn't too hot," the Kid said, remembering. "We had a nice meal afterwards." He nodded. "It was a good day."

Caroline laughed gently. "And here we are a year later. Dancing a waltz together."

"Yeah here we are." He looked at her fondly for a moment. "Funny how life turns out isn't it? I never thought for one minute I'd be doing this but here I am. Dancing with my wife. In New York. In a swanky hotel. It's nice."

"And doing a very good job," she complimented.

"Thanks. I wanted to surprise ya."

"You certainly did. Thank you Jed."

"My pleasure, ma'am."

They completed several more circles of the ballroom before the Kid steered them outside.

"Now where are those two going?" frowned Max Joslin. He took off to follow them.

"Max!" Frances hissed but he didn't hear. She hurried after him and caught him just as he went out through the double doors that led onto the balcony.

The Kid and Caroline were content in each other's arms. Max stopped and stared, an O on his lips.

"Come away, Max," said Frances, catching his arm. She walked him back into the room.

"They really are in love, aren't they?" he said, looking down at his wife on his arm.

Boston society was curious about the Currys. After the sensational story of their marriage and the subsequent court case, speculation had abounded that they would soon separate. That hadn't happened. Which made society even more curious. Insiders wondered too, although they were close enough to see what was happening between Mr and Mrs Curry. Max had just witnessed proof that the Curry's marriage was anything but a sham. It was indeed an intimate love match.

"Yes Max they really are," Frances sighed.

Max sighed too and then looked at his wife. "Fancy a trot round the floor old girl?"

Frances rolled her eyes. There were better ways of asking for a dance. Unfortunately, Max Joslin didn't seem to know them!

ASJASJASJASJ

The Kid lay on the bed in a hotel robe, smiling. Caroline had been his wife for a whole year now. How much longer would she continue to be so? Days? Weeks? Months? More years? No, he wouldn't think on that tonight.

He looked down as he ran his finger around the rim of the champagne flute. Tonight was special. It was their wedding anniversary and he wanted things to go right. He was pleased. They already had so far. The dancing seemed to have gone down well.

His smile deepened. Frances had been right. He had danced a lot closer with Caroline. It had been wonderful. To hold her in his arms in public. To laugh with her. To watch her smile at him delighted at his simple gift. Then they had kissed on the balcony where the whole of New York could see. He hadn't cared. Neither had she.

He leant his head back against the pillow and sighed. He was in love with her. He could finally admit to himself now that's what it was. Even though he thought, he had been in love before those times had felt nothing like this. Caroline was special and he loved her more than he could say.

There was one thing that spoilt it for him. Not knowing if she loved him back. She accepted his kisses, his caresses, she responded passionately and fully to him. She must be in love with him mustn't she? No one was that good. Surely? He was afraid to tell her how he felt in case … he didn't want to think about it. All he could do was tell her with his body. Be the loving, romantic husband for as long as possible.

He looked up as she came through the connecting door. She was a vision. Her hair immaculately brushed. Her negligee expensive and elaborate. She had obviously made an effort. He caught a wave of her subtle perfume as she gracefully sat on the bed next to him. The perfume she only ever wore for him because he liked it.

Reaching over he handed her a glass of champagne. She smiled as she took it, tapping it against his.

"Champagne?" she queried.

"Of course. It's our anniversary. This is from me. I paid for it separate."

Caroline smiled impressed. "You have good taste in champagne Jed."

"Well now I can't say I've had much experience. I just liked the design on the label."

Caroline laughed. "You know there are vast tomes written about the qualities of various types of champagne. There's a whole hierarchy of labels and the prestige that goes with them." She hesitated. "You cut through all that and chose the one whose label you liked best. Jed …" She put her head on her shoulder and looked at him fondly. For a moment, it looked like she was going to say more but at the last moment, she changed her mind, looking away.

He nodded. He had noted her hesitation. He wouldn't dwell on what he thought it might mean. Not tonight. Leaning forward he eased the glass out of her hand slowly. He removed it to the nightstand with his. She was looking back now, wondering what he was doing.

The Kid hesitated and then touched her cheek as his other arm slipped round her shoulders, drawing her close.

"Happy anniversary," he murmured.

When he kissed her, she melted.

ASJASJASJASJ

"You taught Jed to dance didn't you?" Caroline asked Frances the next time they were alone. They were in a private compartment on the train back to Boston. Max and the Kid had gone out to the viewing car for air.

"I don't know what you mean," Frances said, flicking casually through the magazine she had bought for the journey back.

"Yes you do. If YOU didn't, then you know who did."

Frances closed the magazine with a sigh. It was boring her anyway. "Yes I taught Jed how to dance. Is there a problem?"

Caroline smiled. "No." She hesitated. "Whose idea was it?"

Now Frances smiled. "His. He wanted to surprise you for your anniversary. I thought it was very romantic of him."

"Yes it was." Caroline looked away thoughtfully. "He doesn't do things in a big or extravagant way. It's small simple things."

"He's in love with you." Frances was flicking through her magazine again.

Caroline looked at her sharply. "I don't know," she admitted quietly.

"Well I do." Frances said firmly. "Caroline you simply must talk to him," she pleaded. "You can't keep dancing around this. It's tearing you both apart not knowing how you feel about each other."

Caroline looked away and out of the passing scenery. It was several minutes before she spoke again. "He might not and I don't want to find that out."

Frances tutted. "You two want your heads knocking together. I shall say no more!"

ASJASJASJASJASJ

Caroline had smiled politely but it had left her thinking. A few days later, as she looked at her husband across the breakfast table, buttering toast, she realised Frances was right. She was in love with him. The handsome ex-outlaw had captured her heart with his easy and informal manner. He made her laugh at unexpected things, often reducing her to a quivering wreak in private. In public he was more circumspect but his playfulness was always there hovering beneath the surface. A laugh would often burst out of her to be meet with disapproving looks at its inappropriateness. Yes she was definitely, unashamedly, hopelessly in love with him. So why couldn't she tell him?

Suddenly she started as his blue eyes stared at her.

"Somethin' wrong?"

His white teeth bit down on the slice of toast.

She smiled as he chewed and she shook her head.

"No Mr Jones, nothing is wrong," she replied, automatically, opportunity lost.


End file.
